


Love Thy Neighbor

by Alitneroon



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Neighbors AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:25:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8133650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alitneroon/pseuds/Alitneroon
Summary: Jon Snow has the loudest, most annoying, rude neighbor ever. He's obnoxious. They hate each other.  Jon would be quite happy to never speak to him again in his life.
There's just one problem - none of those things are true.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self indulgent, optimistic, silly, happy thing I’ve ever written. I tried very hard to stay in character, but to some extent this is what these characters could be when they’re grown up, in a better world. Have fun playing spot the canon reference.

It was a perfect summer afternoon: the birds were singing, the sky was clear, and the bugs were staying away from Jon as he sat in his backyard reading. Ghost lay asleep by his feet. The ice in his lemonade was starting to melt, and the sun was blinding off the bright white paint of the fence. Most of all, it was blissfully _quiet._ No cars, no screaming children, and no fucking _bikers_.

Jon stretched and shifted in his chair. He watched the sun fall slowly in the sky with a growing sense of dread. It was Saturday night, and that meant that in a few short hours the house next to him would be filled with loud drunk people while he was trying to sleep, just like every Saturday. Jon knew he should be used to it after a year and a half. He wasn’t. He sighed and tried to relax, thinking back wistfully to the two months before Tormund had moved in.

The chair creaked and Ghost sat up to follow him as Jon moved inside. He looked into the empty fridge and sighed, pulling a frozen dinner out of the freezer in defeat and making a note to go shopping tomorrow. The sound of motors rolled up as he started the microwave. His phone buzzed.

 

Edd 6:34 pm: How’s your evening going

 

Jon 6:35 pm: It’s a Saturday night and I’m at home. What do you think?

 

Edd 6:41 pm: Sorry I cancelled on you

 

Jon 6:41 pm: It’s fine.

 

He’d brought dinner into the living room and sat on the couch. Music started up next door, filtering through the walls of the house. He and Edd had gotten into the habit of going out on Saturday nights so Jon could get away from home.

Obviously they couldn’t go every week, and he knew it wasn’t Edd’s fault, but the unexpected cancellation had put Jon in a bit of a bad mood. The heat had given him a headache, and tiny clumps of ice lingered in his meal, which tasted of overspiced cardboard. The music next door was loud enough that he could feel it through the floor. It wasn’t helping.

Enough was enough.

He put down the food, pulled his shoes on, and stomped out the front door. Having to navigate between the bikes parked in Tormund’s driveway made him even more irritated as he climbed the steps up to his front door. There was a sign next to the door, taped around the edges – _doorbell broken, please knock!_ Jon pounded on the door as hard as he could and waited, fuming. Only the sound of the music came from inside. The door stayed shut. He pounded on it again, kicked it, and finally it opened. Tormund stood in the doorway.

“Ah, Jon. What do you want?” Tormund smirked. Jon knew he knew exactly why he was here. He resented the fact that Tormund towered over him, looking so smug with his stupid jacket, _free folk_ plastered over the back in white letters.

“I’m not in the mood to play, Tormund, turn your fucking music down.” He drew himself up to his full height, trying not to be intimidated. “It’s bad enough that I have to deal with your stupid gang at all, the least you can do is keep the noise to a level where I can sleep.”

Tormund rolled his eyes and stepped outside, closing the door behind him, and Jon breathed a sigh of relief at the relative quiet it brought. “You didn’t seem to think it was such a ‘stupid gang’ when you were dating Ygritte. We like the music loud, you know that. It’s not _that_ loud.”

“It’s pretty damn loud! I wouldn’t even be here if Edd hadn’t cancelled on me, I’ve got a headache and it’s _not helping._ ” Jon ranted. “Just turn the music down, and I’ll leave.”

Tormund continued to glare at Jon, and he thought he was going to have some other quip, but finally he sighed and relaxed, backing off. “Fine, we’ll turn it down a little.”

“Thank you.” Jon said, taken aback.

“Go sleep.” Tormund went back inside before Jon could say anything else, and he stood in front of the closed door for a moment, surprised. He hadn’t expected it to be this easy. It had been a while since he had confronted Tormund directly, for several months he’d asked through Ygritte instead, but he remembered fighting in the early days. That Tormund should give in without a fight seemed unusual. His head was still throbbing as he walked back to his own house, but he smiled as he heard the music go down to a reasonable level.

He sat down heavily on the couch and picked up his abandoned phone and dinner, already feeling a little better.

 

***

 

The morning was just turning the corner from warm to hot as Jon stepped outside to take Ghost on his morning walk. He started past Tormund's house and saw him sitting in a lawn chair in the sun, shirtless, a soda in his hand and a bag of chips in his lap. He lowered his sunglasses and waved at Jon. "Good morning!" He called out, far too cheerful.

"Morning." Jon nodded politely. Ghost pulled at his leash and Jon chuckled, giving in and walking over towards Tormund. Ghost loved the man, regardless of how his owner felt about him.

"How's my husky baby?" Tormund cooed as Ghost tried to jump into his lap. He looked up. "And how's my neighbor?"

"I slept better last night than most Saturdays." Jon replied coolly.

"Yes, you don't like us, I know. The six foot tall fence between our houses was the first clue." Tormund turned back to Ghost. "You could join us if you wanted, you know. You'll have more fun actually at the party than listening to it."

"No thank you. I've had plenty enough of your crowd already."

"Suit yourself." Tormund rolled his eyes. "Have a nice walk. Try not to yell at any birds. You know. Loud things."

Jon scoffed. "Come on, Ghost." He pulled at the leash, dragging Ghost away from Tormund. "Heel."

He decided to make the long loop around the neighborhood to come back on the other side. He didn't want to see Tormund again. On a whim, he pulled out his phone to text Ygritte.

 

Jon 11:24 am: Your bike gang is really annoying

Jon 11:24 am: Tormund is annoying

Jon 11:27 am: I can't believe he's my neighbor. What did I do to deserve this

 

Ygritte 11:34 am: You know you like him, shut up

 

Jon 11:36 am: I don't mind him. Still annoying.

 

Part of Jon wished Ygritte was still here. The whole thing had seemed a lot more tolerable when his girlfriend was part of it. When she moved away it had all just become a lot of noise.

 

***

 

All of the other dog owners Jon knew complained often and loudly about the 4th of July, but Ghost was a bit of a strange dog. He didn't mind fireworks, in fact, he seemed to like them. Jon had loved fireworks since he was a child playing with sparklers in the long driveway at Winterfell, enchanted by the lights and sounds. They had always been able to set off real ones out in the country – no one around to complain. So that night once he'd returned home from the real show and could hear the Free Folk next door, setting off fountains and screamers and several things Jon thought probably weren't legal, he couldn't bring himself to be angry. Instead he found himself getting a little jealous. Watching from his front window wasn't the same. It didn't take much for him to give up and retrieve Ghost's leash to join them, or at least watch from the front stoop.

Tormund waved him over when he was no more than two steps out the door, and Jon grinned, overtaken by childlike excitement. He didn't even mind being surrounded by the other bikers – he knew a few of them by their faces if not by name, but they were mostly strangers. "I wanted to come see what you were doing." Jon said.

"Fireworks." Tormund replied, an obvious answer to an obvious question. "Ghost going to be ok?"

"He likes them. Sit." Ghost sat between them, watching the fireworks intently. "I didn't buy any this year. They're no fun to set off on your own."

"No, they're not. I thought you were coming to yell at us when I saw your door open, to be honest."

"Any other night I would've been." It was true, but tonight was special, it had always been special. "Got any I can do?"

"Hey, Mance!" Tormund yelled. "Jon wants to set one off!"

The man handling the boxes– Mance – came over where he could talk to them. "Anything in particular?"

"I like fountains."

Mance smiled. "Come on over, I'll get you one."

"Can you hold Ghost for me?" Jon asked Tormund, holding out the leash.

"It would be an honor." Tormund teased.

Mance handed Jon a fountain and a lighter and he went to the middle of the street to set it off, aware that everyone was watching him. He didn’t mind, though, as he stepped back to admire the colors. He looked back for a second to find Tormund and Ghost both grinning at him and smiled back. He knew tomorrow they would go back to their state of perpetual mutual annoyance, but right now it didn’t matter.

“You should hang out with us sometime.” Tormund said when he came back to retrieve ghost. “I bet you’d enjoy it.”

“I doubt that. Fireworks are different.”

Jon expected a quip from Tormund as usual, but he just shrugged. The rest of his friends got back to setting off fireworks, but they weren’t as wary of Jon as when he had first come outside. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

Edd 10:56 pm: Happy 4th!

 

***

 

There it was again, distant laughter. This time Jon was sure it was coming from his backyard. He stood and walked to the back door, peering out.

He flipped the back light on. Someone was leaning over the fence from Tormund’s side – he must have been standing on something. He had a cup in his hand. It took Jon a moment to register what he was doing. His mouth fell open as the man slowly tipped the cup, stretching out, _pouring it in his bird bath._

He ran outside, barely stopping to put on a pair of flip flops, and marched angrily to Tormund’s door. The sign about the broken doorbell was ripped at the edge and falling but still there. He kicked at the door, fuming.

The door swung open. “What is it this time? We’re not playing anything–“

“ _There is someone in your backyard trying to pour beer in my bird bath._ ” Jon ranted, punctuating his words with an angry, pointing finger.

The expression on Tormund’s face slowly changed from annoyance to confusion to anger. “What?”

“I don’t know, I looked out my back door and he got up to the top of the fence somehow–“

“No, I heard what you said.” Tormund pushed past him and started around the house, barefoot. Jon followed him up through the side yard. There was a group standing by the fence, laughing. The same man was standing on a ladder, taking another cup passed to him by one of the people below.

“Orell!” Tormund shouted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Jon stopped a little ways back and watched Tormund march up to them. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled smugly.

“Aw, come on, Tormund, don’t be a buzzkill.” Orell slurred, clearly drunk.

“Where did you even get the ladder? Did you take it out of my garage?” Having someone on his side was already making Jon feel a little better, even though he dreaded having to clean out the bath tomorrow. “Get down from there!”

The crowd gathered around shrunk back a bit, some of them trying to hide behind each other. “You’re not my dad, shut up.” Orell said, and continued to pour.

Jon had to fight not to snicker as he saw several people grinning and filming the scene. He knew they wouldn’t let Orell live this down. “No, and thank god for that, but this is my house, and my ladder, and my neighbor’s birdbath. Get. Down.” Tormund growled.

Orell rolled his eyes, dropped the cup in Jon’s yard, and climbed down the ladder on unsteady feet. He missed the last step and fell flat on his back, looking up at Tormund and breaking into wild laughter. Somebody helped him up and away and the crowd dispersed, leaving the ladder.

Tormund sighed and looked back at Jon. “Help me with this at least.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jon said and walked around to grab the other side of the ladder. They pulled it down and Tormund led him into his garage. The back door was left open, but Tormund looked like he’d rather not bother to complain about that too.

“Sorry about all that. They can get a little out of hand when they’re drunk sometimes.”

“Yeah, well. I’d rather they didn’t get out of hand in my yard. But thanks anyway.” Jon said with just a hint of sarcasm. He set down his end of the ladder and brushed his hands off on his jeans.

Jon could just barely see Tormund roll his eyes in the dim light. “I’ll keep an eye on them. Go on home, enjoy your evening. Have fun cleaning up that birdbath tomorrow.” He disappeared into the house.

Jon scoffed, annoyed, and left through the back door, closing it behind himself at least.

 

***

 

Most mornings Jon avoided Starbucks. He didn’t really like their coffee. It had nothing to do with the fact that Tormund worked there, of course not. This morning, though, his normal coffee shop was closed for renovations, and the only other one even remotely on the way was Starbucks.

He sighed, seeing Tormund’s face light up as he walked in. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with his enthusiasm, but he needed coffee. It was past nine and there was no line left. “Just a medium latte, please.”

“Headed to work?” Tormund asked as he rung up the order.

“Yep.” Jon replied curtly and stepped away from the counter, but Tormund followed him, leaning on the display case.

One of Tormund's coworkers was making his coffee, so he was left chatting. “You’re up at best buy, right?”

“Yeah–“ Jon paused. “How did you know that?”

“Ygritte must’ve mentioned it once.”

"Makes sense."

“So how is it there? You like it?” Tormund tapped his fingers along the top of the case idly.

“It’s fine. I’m middle management, so it’s not just dealing with customers. Which sucks.”

Tormund grinned. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Of course you do.” Jon gestured around him. He yawned suddenly. “Sorry. Didn’t sleep too well last night.”

"I can tell you're not a morning person." Tormund turned around to grab his coffee. "Here."

"Ha, yeah, I'm not." He took it gratefully. "Thanks."

"Have a nice day." Jon nodded and walked away, somehow feeling much happier than he had when he came in. He pulled out his phone on some impulse to take a picture of the cup, and sent it to Ygritte.

 

Jon 9:35 am: Guess who wrote that

 

Ygritte 9:57 am: lol nice. was he nice? and I thought you didn't do Starbucks.

 

Jon 9:58 am: Very

Jon 9:58 am: I do now?

 

***

 

Two of the past five days had been over 95 degrees, and there wasn't a cloud in sight. Jon only wore a pair of loose shorts as he ventured out to turn on the sprinkler for the garden; he wasn't about to stand out in this heat with the hose. He set up the sprinkler next to the fence and turned it up to the max setting, covering as much area at once as he could, before retreating inside.

Twenty minutes later his front door rang. He opened it to find a soaked, dripping, dejected Tormund. "One moment I was taking a nap in my backyard. The next thing I knew, I woke up soaked. I don't suppose you know anything about this?"

Jon stared at him in disbelief for a few long seconds and then burst into laughter. He saw Tormund try desperately to keep up his facade of annoyance, a smile sneaking into the corner of his mouth. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were there. I wouldn’t have expected anyone to be out in this heat.

“Your fence get in the way?” Tormund raised an eyebrow and grinned.

“Let me get you a towel.”

“No, it’s fine–“ Tormund called after Jon, but he was already back inside the house. He grabbed a beach towel from the hall closet and handed it to Tormund.

“Thanks.” He grabbed the offered towel and patted his face dry. “Next time keep your sprinkler in your own yard.”

Jon laughed. “I’ll pay more attention in the future.” He leaned against the doorframe and ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“I’ll get you back for this. Just you wait.” Tormund teased. He held the towel back out to Jon. “Have a good day,” He said, flippant. He waved a hand over his shoulder as he turned away.

The heat wave continued on. Half a week later Jon was outside watering the garden by hand. He was getting sick of doing it every day, but today was a little cooler and he didn’t want to bother getting the sprinkler out, instead enjoying the sun in spite of the sweat gathering in his curls. Ghost was asleep in the shade at the back of the yard.

Suddenly the peace was interrupted by a jet of water on his back, icy cold.

He spun around only to get a face full of water and gasped. It stopped and he blinked, shaking his head, trying to see what was going on, where it was coming from.

Tormund was standing over the fence, hose in hand, smirking. “Now we’re even.”

“Why, you little–“ Jon turned his own hose to the jet setting and fired back. Now it was Tormund’s turn to gasp and duck, dropping below the fence. Jon could hear laughter from the other side, and he ran towards it, spraying over the top. “You’re not getting away with that!” He shouted.

More water was his answer. Jon ducked and ran to avoid it. “I told you I’d get you back, didn’t I?” Tormund shouted in reply.

The fight continued. Soon enough Jon was completely soaked, and puddles of water were starting to collect on the yard. Suddenly the water from Tormund’s side stopped. Jon waited, listening. He stalked closer to the fence.

Tormund popped up over the fence out of nowhere, unleashing another stream of water straight at Jon. He scrambled backward to try and get out of the way and slipped on the wet grass, falling, sprawling onto his back. Both of them collapsed into laughter and Tormund stopped, leaning over the top of the fence and staring at Jon. “You alright there?” He asked.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Jon said, his voice dripping with feigned sarcasm.

“One moment.” Tormund dropped below the fence and disappeared, and Jon stayed on the grass, staring at the sky and catching his breath. A minute later Tormund threw a towel at him. It hit Jon square in the face.

“I volunteered to take a friend’s evening shift at work. I’ve gotta go. Have a nice afternoon!” Tormund said, and disappeared, leaving Jon alone and soaked and covered in grass, the hose still running. He grinned and pushed himself up. He was going to need a shower.

 

Jon 6:15 pm: Maybe Tormund’s not so bad after all

 

Ygritte 6:24 pm: oh? what did he do?

 

Jon 6:26 pm: …he sprayed me with the hose

Jon 6:26 pm: And then we got in a water fight

 

Ygritte 6:28 pm: and this makes you like him? I don’t understand you.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Sansa! How are you?” Jon said into the phone. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“I’m good! Are you going to be free in early October?” He heard a pause, a shuffling of papers. “The 7th or 8th, around then?”

“I think so, yeah? How come?” Jon smiled, anticipating the news of a visit.

“I’m going to be in Chicago for work on the 9th. I was planning on driving. Could I stop in for a day on the way?”

“Of course. It’ll be good to see you. I’ll get work off that day so we can catch up.”

“Sounds great. How have you been?” She asked, shifting from her business voice to a more conversational tone. “Last time I saw you was what, last Christmas?”

“It must’ve been, yeah.” They hadn’t talked much lately, it had slipped Jon’s mind. “It’s been mostly life as normal. I’m still stuck as the floor manager, but it’s decent money. How about you?”

“I won’t bore you with work stuff, except to say that it’s going well.” Jon could hear the hint of pride in her voice. “I’ve been seeing someone too.” She continued. “Her name’s Margaery. It’s going really well.”

Jon smiled. “That’s great.

“Speaking of, I haven’t really talked to you since Ygritte moved away. How is that? Are you doing ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. We’re still friends, we text a lot. I mean, I liked her, but it was only six months.” Jon replied lightly.

“It’s too bad that I never got to meet her. She seemed nice, I bet I would’ve liked her.”

“You would have. You know, now that you mention it, I can’t think of a single one of my friends that you have met.” Jon said, an idea beginning to crystallize.

Sansa paused. “No, you’re right, I haven’t. I’ve just heard you talk about them. I’d like to! They all sound fun.”

“What if we had a small dinner party while you were here? It would give me an excuse to get some people in the house.”

“And give me an excuse to meet your friends, and relax before my trip. Sounds great to me.” Jon could hear the smile in her voice. He had known Sansa would like the idea. She enjoyed parties and getting to know people, it was a welcome break from her business life.

“Great. On the 8th, then?”

“Yep.” She paused and he heard a small sigh. “I have to go. I’ll call again if anything comes up, ok?”

“Alright. It was good talking to you.”

“You too. I’ll see you then. Bye!” She hung up. _Always busy,_ Jon thought, but he knew she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jon shook his head as he realized what he had just gotten himself into. Organizing a party was no small thing – even if it was a small party. Still, it would be good to get all his friends in one place, and to make it nice for Sansa.

 

***

 

He’d taken the guest list down to six.

Edd was obvious, as were Sam and Gilly. Grenn and Pyp made sense for the next two. He stared at the last name on the list, thinking over it. It didn’t make sense, but it was there anyway.

It was only recently that he’d begun to think of Tormund as a friend, even just a friendly acquaintance, rather than an enemy, and yet there it was. His head told him he didn’t fit, that he wouldn’t make good company for the rest of them. He was too wild, he only knew Jon. Edd would find it weird, he’d been listening to Jon complain about him for months. Still, despite all that, his gut told him he belonged. He’d be fun if nothing else, and it would be good to get to know him better now that they were finally a little bit friendly. _A good icebreaker, A gesture of peace,_ Jon rationalized. _It’ll be fine._

He sighed and took out a pen with one hand and his phone with the other. It took an hour to call five of the six, and thankfully all of them told Jon they could come. He checked them off on the list one by one. He reached the last name and stared at his phone, having another moment of doubt as he realized he didn’t have Tormund’s number. _What am I doing inviting someone who hasn’t ever had a reason to give me his number?_

He shook his head and put down his phone. His jacket was slung over the back of a chair and he put it on to go next door. It was chilly but not too bad, the seasons just starting to turn.

The paper was gone from over Tormund’s doorbell. Jon pushed it and stuck his hands in his pockets, waiting, trying to look as casual as possible. It took a minute for the door to open. A piece of hair was sticking straight up on Tormund’s head, and Jon couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “What is it you want from me this early in the morning?” He asked.

“It’s eleven.” Jon answered.

“It’s early for a Sunday.” Tormund tried to lean on the doorframe and stumbled, crossing his arms and trying to cover it, clearly hung over. “Go ahead.”

Jon took a deep breath before speaking. “Are you free next Sunday? My sister’s coming over, and we’re having a small dinner party. She wants to meet a few of my friends.”

“Friends, is it? I didn’t know you thought of me as a friend.” Jon opened his mouth to respond, but was saved by Tormund continuing on without giving him the chance. “Yeah, I’m free. I’ll be there. What time?”

“4:30. As far as I know you don’t know anyone else who’s coming, but they’re all nice.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ll mark it down. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Yeah, of course. Neighbors go on the list of people sisters should meet, yes?”

“I suppose so.” Tormund grinned. “Anything else?”

“No, I’m sure you’ve got things to do, I won’t keep you.” Jon stepped away from the door. “Have a good day. Have some coffee. You look exhausted.”

“Yeah, I will. You too.” He waved and closed the door.

 

Jon 10:20 am: All six guests can come

 

Sansa :10:24 am: Sounds great!

 

***

Jon wandered through the kitchen, checking off items in his head. All the decorations were done, the appetizers were set out, and the food was in the oven. Sansa was putting the finishing touches on the salad.

Jon pushed aside an ear of corn and put his phone and a glass of cider down on the table next to the couch, waiting for the guests to arrive. A moment later Sansa joined him.

“It’s been a while since I was at your house. It’s very nice. Much cleaner than your room used to be.” Sansa teased, leaning down to pet Ghost as he sat in front of her.

“Hey, it wasn’t all me. Robb made a lot of mess too.” Jon replied. He checked his watch and bounced his foot. “Half an hour.”

“You’re weirdly excited for this.” Sansa peered at him. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I’m excited for you to meet my friends, is all.” _Tormund is going to be inside my house. In my goddamn house._ “And a little nervous.” He confessed.

“It’ll be fine. I promise I won’t embarrass you.” She grinned. “Except by telling stories about you.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.”

“I’m your sister, you dork. They can’t possibly embarrass you any more than I’ve seen you embarrass yourself.”

“I know.” Jon took a sip of cider and stared out the window, enjoying the fall colors in the park across the street.

Soon enough the doorbell rang. It was Sam and Gilly, early as usual. Jon hugged them in greeting. “We got a babysitter for little Sam.” Gilly said as she was hanging up her coat.

“Sam, Gilly, this is my sister Sansa.” Jon closed the door behind them. Sansa stood to shake hands with them. “Sansa, this is Sam and Gilly.”

Jon breathed a small sigh of relief as they seemed to hit it off right away. Sam and Gilly took chairs by the window and Jon sat on his end of the couch listening to their conversation. Edd arrived next, and Jon held his breath as 4:30 itself got closer and closer, expecting Tormund to be precisely on time.

He arrived at 4:31. Jon gulped as he got up to answer the door, trying to keep a poker face in front of the other guests, praying that he was wearing something decent and not one of his biker jackets. He opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks.

No biker jacket. No holes in his jeans. His hair was brushed and slicked back neatly, and he was dressed in a white sweater pushed up to his forearms, somehow softer than usual. Suddenly Jon felt nervous for an entirely different reason, a hot flush rising in his cheeks. “Come on in,” He forced himself to say. “This is Tormund, everyone.”

Tormund stepped into the room and waved hello. Jon desperately needed a moment. “Can I get anyone something to drink?”

“A beer, if you have any.” Tormund replied. Jon nodded and fled the room.

He paused at the counter to catch his breath. _What the hell?_ He thought. He didn’t like Tormund that way. He was starting to think of him as a friend, sure. He was nervous because he didn’t want to be embarrassed, he was just caught off guard. _Right?_

Distantly Jon heard Edd let Pyp and Grenn into the house. _Beer. Right._ He crossed the room to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He almost took one for himself before remembering his cider. He could get drunk later, if he had to. He held the cold bottle to his cheek for a moment and took a deep breath. _Come on, Jon, shake it off. Being attracted to new friends is not a good thing to do. Don’t make things complicated._

He returned to the sitting room to find that Tormund had taken his spot. The only place left was between him and Sansa on the couch. _Seven guests, eight spots._ Jon realized. _Oh, fuck._ There was enough space on the couch to sit comfortably, but not far apart. He handed the beer to Tormund.

Sansa raised her eyebrows imperceptibly as he sat. He silenced her with a glare. "Could you pass me my phone and my drink?" Jon said to Tormund, somehow keeping his voice normal.

"Oh, did I take your spot? I'm sorry–"

"It's fine, really." Jon said, cutting him off as he tried to stand. Tormund shrugged and passed them over. "Thanks." He took a sip and tried not to think about the way the couch was dipping under Tormund's weight, or the fact that the was close enough to feel a tiny bit of heat coming off of him. Suddenly Ghost came barreling around the corner and Jon laughed. It turned to yelling as he tried to climb up onto the couch. "Ghost! Down!" He held up his drink to keep it from spilling. "Ghost!"

The whole room was laughing now. Tormund leaned out of the way as Ghost tried to lick him and bumped straight into Jon, almost falling over onto him, but Jon could only laugh. "Oh my god. Ghost!" He shouted again, managing to get off the couch. He put down his drink and turned back. "Calm down!"

Ghost seemed satisfied with taking Jon's spot. He settled down and rested his head in Tormund's lap, gazing up at Jon and pleading not to be moved. Jon rolled his eyes and laughed again at Tormund's face.

"The dog likes him! That settles it. Friend approved, Jon." Pyp said.

"Okay, sure, but I need to sit."

Jon and Ghost had a brief staring contest, and then Tormund spoke. "Ghost, go." He jumped off immediately and moved to lie at their feet. Jon shook his head and sat.

"Ghost likes Tormund better than you." Grenn teased. "You sure you're his owner?"

"Shut up, Grenn." Jon retorted lightly.

Jon relaxed and settled into his seat, listening as the conversations went on without him. Ghost had broken the ice, and though he was still far too aware of it every time Tormund shifted, but it was a pleasant kind of awareness. He was almost reluctant to get up when the timer for the food went off. He sighed and pushed himself off the couch anyway. Sansa followed him to help.

"So?" Jon asked as he pulled the tray out of the oven. "What do you think?"

"They're pretty much like all the other friends you've had." Sansa teased. "Seriously though, they're nice. I like them." She disappeared for a moment to bring the salad into the dining room.

"Coming through." Jon warned Sansa as he passed by her with the hot dish. He set out wine and glasses and plates while Sansa found room for the other dishes.

They each took a seat at opposite ends of the table and called everyone else over. Edd, Grenn and Pyp sat on one side of the table. Tormund claimed the seat to Jon’s right and Sam and Gilly filled the last two seats.

Jon raised a quick toast to Sansa’s visit and they started on the food. Dinner was tasty and pleasant, though no one ate much, all of them saving room for pie. The party slowly moved back into the living room.

Everyone was various degrees of tipsy by then. Jon allowed himself to shift over on the couch until he was touching Tormund, allowed himself not to think too much about it. Soon enough he started to hear whispers about pie and stood up. “Do I have a volunteer to help me serve?”

Jon smiled as Tormund followed him. “Let’s go.”

He was glad to get away from all of the talking for a moment. The quiet of the kitchen felt far more intimate than sitting on the couch together. “Enjoying yourself?” Jon asked.

“Yeah. I like your sister. She’s cool.”

“And the rest of them?” Jon put the pumpkin pie on the counter and handed Tormund a knife before turning to retrieve the plates.

Tormund shrugged. “They seem fun. What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know. Just wondering. Which pie do you want?”

“I’ll have apple to start. A big piece, thanks.”

One by one they filled the plates and brought them back out to the living room. The party quieted after that. Sam and Gilly left around 10, and by 11 the rest of them were gone as well. Tormund was the last one out the door, shortly after Edd. Jon bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave, and then the door closed and left the house in silence.

“I suppose we should clean all this up.” Jon said.

Sansa laughed. “Yeah.” The guests were clean and the party was small, but there were still forgotten glasses and and napkins and a pile of dirty plates in the sink. Jon collected the garbage and met Sansa in the kitchen.

“You really do have a thing for redheads, don’t you?” She said out of nowhere.

Jon froze standing in the door of the fridge. “It’s not like that.”

Sansa laughed and Jon turned around to see her staring at him with arms crossed. “Oh yeah? What’s it like then?”

“We’re friends, he’s my neighbor.” Jon leaned against the table across from her. “There’s nothing else to it, I swear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with admitting it. I think he’s great.”

“There’s nothing to admit.” Jon busied himself with putting plates in the dishwasher. He could still see Sansa peering at him out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s up with you, Jon? What’s so scary about all it? He’s nice, he’s your neighbor. I don’t know him well enough to tell for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he liked you too. I know you, I saw your face when he walked in. You’re clearly into him. What’s wrong with it?”

Jon was silent for a long time, continuing to put the dishes away blindly. He didn’t know how to answer Sansa. He didn’t know how to think coherently about this. _I don’t know,_ he thought, followed by another, _oh, fuck._ He still had no idea what to say.

He decided on honesty, giving in and turning to face her. “I don’t know. I really don’t. Maybe you’re right, but to be honest, I haven’t thought about it at all.”

Sansa shrugged. “Alright, fine. I’ll drop it.” She put the last of the dishes away before continuing. “You know you can talk to me if you need to, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” Jon poured himself a half a glass of wine and sat at the kitchen table. “I wish you were staying longer.”

“So do I.” Sansa stole his glass to take a sip. “You’ll be fine. I’ll see you again at Christmas anyway.”

“The house is too big for me, honestly. It’s relatively small, but for one person… makes me wish I had someone to share it with. It gets a little lonely.”

“Even with Ghost?” Sansa said, smiling as he came around the corner.

“He helps.” Jon looked down and Ghost rested his head in his lap. Sansa yawned. “We should get to sleep, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ve got a long day of driving ahead of me.”

“You can have the bed. I’m not letting my guest sleep on the couch.”

“Thanks.” Sansa stood and went to get her stuff out of the car. Jon was reminded of his childhood back at Winterfell as they bumped into each other in the hallways getting ready. It made him wish for it again.

Finally settled, he stared up at the patterns formed by the streetlight filtering through the blinds in the dark. The couch wasn’t exactly comfortable, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t sleep. He was still unsettled by the events of the night, by Sansa’s accusations. Tormund had surprised him, he realized. _What am I getting myself into?_


	3. Chapter 3

“You’ve never seen Star Wars.”

Jon laughed at the disbelief on Tormund’s face. Even after years of that same reaction, he never tired of it. “Nope.” He’d only been walking by with Ghost, and he’d said… Something, he didn’t even know what had triggered it. Cue Star Wars joke. Cue confusion. Cue outrage.

“How does one go through 26 years of life without having seen Star Wars?”

“I don’t know. I always meant to watch it, it just never happened.”

“Unbelievable. Go watch it. As soon as possible.” Jon started to speak and Tormund cut him off. “No, you know what? I have them on dvd. Come over this weekend, we’ll have a movie night.”

Jon shrugged. “Alright.” He figured there was no harm in it, and he was curious.

“Here, give me your number so we can make plans.” Tormund dropped the rake and walked over to Jon, holding out his phone.

“Sure.” Jon took the phone and put in his number, trying to ignore the sweat gathering on his palms. He handed the phone back. “I’d better get going.”

“Yeah, of course. Go on.” Tormund went back to raking. “I’ll text you.”

 

***

 

Jon knocked on Tormund’s door three minutes before he was supposed to arrive. It opened within ten seconds.

“Come on in,” Tormund said. He grinned. “I’ve got popcorn ready.”

Jon rolled his eyes and stepped inside. “I can’t believe I’m going along with this.”

“It’s _Star Wars._ You’re gonna love it, I promise. TV room’s over here.” He disappeared around a corner and Jon followed after pulling off his shoes. He realized suddenly he had never been in Tormund’s house before. Even when Ygritte was over, she would always come to Jon’s house if she wanted to talk to him, and she’d never succeeded in dragging him back with her. The floor in the TV room was heavily carpeted, one long couch and a few chairs facing a small TV. It was a simple room, cleaner than Jon expected, but there were a few things lying around, a stack of dvd’s on the floor in front of an overflowing cabinet. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.” Tormund said, and left.

Jon sat on the right of the couch and tried to relax, to stop feeling so awkward. This wasn’t that big a deal, it was just a movie. There was nothing to be worried about.

Tormund returned with a bowl of popcorn and set it on the table in front of Jon. "We're watching the originals first."

"Whatever you want, you decide." Jon took a bite of popcorn and leaned back into the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table, trying to force some comfort. "I barely know anything but about Star Wars."

"Clearly." Tormund sat heavily on the opposite end of the couch. "Ready?"

"Yeah, sure, let's go."

Jon relaxed as it turned out Tormund was one of those people who stayed glued to the screen throughout the movie except for the occasional comment. It meant that Jon could pay attention, and he didn't have to worry about responding to anything Tormund might say. Every once in a while he caught Tormund looking over for his reaction. To his surprise he found it endearing rather than unsettling. By the end of the movie Jon had pulled his feet up into the couch with the popcorn bowl between them, eyes starting to fall shut – he'd had a long day. Fridays always were.

The credits rolled. Jon saw Tormund turn to him out of the corner of his eye. “Well?” He asked after a moment.

Jon nodded. “You’re right. It was good.” He really had enjoyed it, in spite of nearly falling asleep. He turned to look at Tormund. “I’ll have to see the rest to be sure.”

“Yeah, you will.” He took one of the last pieces of popcorn and placed it obscenely on his outstretched tongue. “Next week?”

Jon laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah. I’m falling asleep here.”

“I noticed.” Tormund stood, taking the popcorn bowl with him. Jon followed him out of the room and into the foyer. He sat on the bench to put on his shoes and jacket. Tormund stood staring at him, arms crossed.

“It was nice having you.” He said as Jon’s hand went to the door handle. “I’m looking forward to next week.”

“Me too.” Jon smiled awkwardly. He opened the door and stopped halfway in for half a second, unsure what to say. He settled on a quick “Bye.”And a hand raised in an imitation of a wave. He grimaced and left before he could embarrass himself even more.

 

***

 

Morning coffee at Starbucks had become a bit of a routine recently. Even after Jon’s normal coffee shop had reopened, he hadn’t gone back. The part of himself that could say it was because he actually liked their coffee was slowly dying out.

This morning he didn’t technically have to go in to work until noon, but he had an employee form to fill out before then. He worked better here than at home, he reasoned. He found himself in a quiet corner in view of the counter, laptop open in front of him and a mug of coffee sitting beside it.

He was putting the finishing touches on the first section when a woman walked up to him and sat across the table. He looked at her over the top of his laptop. “Can I help you?” He asked.

She leaned over the table. “You can. You can give me your number.”

Jon stared at her in disbelief for a moment. Was this really happening in a coffee shop at ten am on a Tuesday? “I’m sorry?”

“You caught my eye. What are you working on there?”

“Work.” Jon replied dryly. He stared at it intensely, wishing it could save him. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to chat.”

“Oh, but we can chat later! I’ll let you get back to that. I’ll just hang out here, if you don’t mind. Watch-“

She was cut off by a gruff. “Excuse me.” Jon looked up to find Tormund standing by the table, holding a plate. He set it down gently and beamed at Jon. “There you are, honey.”

It took Jon a moment to figure out what was happening – just as Tormund leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek. Somehow he managed to pull off a smile through the panic. Faintly he registered the outraged look on the face of the woman as she pushed back her chair and stomped away. He barely gave it a second thought as he felt his heart suddenly race. A full-body flush came over him as he struggled to get his breathing under control, as Tormund walked away like it was nothing. He looked down to find a raspberry danish sitting on the plate – his favorite.

Suddenly everything fell into place. The last traces of denial that might have still existed were completely gone. There was no doubt now, no way he could ignore it after _that._ He had completely, utterly, head-over-heels fallen for Tormund. And it was _scary as hell._

_Fuck._

It could have been minutes or hours before his heart rate began to slow again. He looked up, trying to breathe evenly, knowing Tormund must have seen his reaction. _Play it cool,_ he thought desperately. His eyes found Tormund’s at the counter between making drinks. “Thanks,” He mouthed.

Tormund smirked, winked, and turned away.

Jon stared at the employee form, trying to make sense of the words again and find a place to start. He took a bite of the danish with shaking hands, placed his hands on the keyboard, and sat. Eventually he started to type again, routine taking over for his still reeling brain.

It was a good danish.

 

***

 

Jon had spent far too long trying to decide on a Halloween costume. He wished he was a kid trick or treating again, that he could pick something more outrageous and fun. Every year he used the kids coming to his door as an excuse to dress up, although it limited his options. He’d finally settled on a werewolf. It was appropriate with Ghost by his side, and a hit among the neighborhood kids.

The stream of kids had slowed slowed to a trickle. Jon sat by the door waiting, eating the occasional piece of candy from the bowl.

The doorbell rang and he got up to answer it, calling ghost and putting on his best scary face. He pulled the door open. “Trick or treat!!” Two small kids yelled, holding out their bags for candy. Standing behind them was Tormund.

“What do we have here?” He leaned down to the boy and dropped a couple candies in his bag, paying attention to the kids first before asking what Tormund was doing. “A superhero?”

“I’m Captain America!” He beamed up at Jon, missing teeth and all.

“And you?” He turned to the girl.

“I’m a Viking! Aaaaah!” She yelled, and shook her axe. Jon smiled and gave her her candy too. She looked behind Jon to ghost. “Is that a real wolf?”

Jon smiled. “Yep. A big scary wolf. Be careful, or he’ll eat you.”

“I won’t let him! I’ll fight him off!”

Jon looked up at Tormund, finally. He was cut off before he could ask his question. “My sister’s kids.” Tormund said. “She had to work tonight.”

“Is this your last stop?” Jon asked. The little girl was still glaring at Ghost.

“Yeah, we’re headed home now.”

“Awww, uncle Tormund! Why can’t we go a little longer?” The boy whined.

“I wanna pet the wolf!” His sister chimed in. She looked up at Jon. “Can I pet the wolf?”

Jon shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Only if Tormund says it’s ok, though,” He quickly added, putting out a hand to stop her.

“Ok, Ingrid, go pet the wolf.” Tormund said. Jon stepped aside and Ingrid came screaming through, throwing herself at Ghost. Her brother followed after a moment.

Jon and Tormund looked at each other and grinned. “Want to come in for a minute?” Jon asked.

“Sure. “ Tormund stepped inside and closed the door behind himself. He sat on the couch to watch the children play with Ghost. Jon kept an eye on them, but he wasn’t worried, Ghost was good with kids. He sat on the other end of the couch and held the candy bowl out at Tormund. “Take some. I don’t think I’ll be getting many more people, it’s getting late.”

“Thanks.”

Ingrid seemed absolutely overjoyed about playing with Ghost, but Jon noticed her brother was hanging back, cautious. “What’s the boy’s name?” He asked Tormund.

“Sven.” He answered.

“Hey, Sven!” Jon called. Sven came over to him, clearly shy. Jon leaned off the couch a little to get down to his level. “Want to tell me more about Captain America?”

Jon knew about Captain America, of course, but he listened all the same. Sven went to sit on the middle of the couch, his legs dangling, and babbled on about all his favorite superheroes and all the cool things they did, about how excited he was for the next movie. Jon nodded and laughed and listened, and watched Tormund smiling softly at him out of the corner of his eye, warmth filling his chest. Ingrid ran up to argue with him about which of two superheroes was better, and Jon made eye contact with Tormund behind his back.

“You’re really good with them.” Tormund said.

“I had four younger siblings.” Jon replied. “I’ve always loved kids.”

“So do I, but I’ve been dealing with them since 5, I’m getting a little tired now.” Tormund laughed and leaned over to pet Ghost, who had come up in front of Tormund after losing Ingrid’s attention.

“How much longer do you have them?”

“About 20 minutes. I should probably get them back over to my place soon.”

He stood and moved toward the door. “Time to go, kids.”

“Can we come back and play with the wolf again sometime?” Ingrid asked.

“Sure!” Jon answered. “His name is Ghost, by the way.”

“That’s an awesome name.” She grinned and followed Tormund out the door. “Bye, Ghost!”

“See you Friday.” Tormund called over his shoulder before closing the door. Jon raised a hand in a half wave and went back to the couch, finally feeling the evening catch up with him, starting to tire.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“What seems to be the matter here?” Jon stopped in front of a panicked young employee, facing off with a scowling blonde teen – he knew exactly the type. The boy’s mother stood behind him, suit, sunglasses, I-want-to-speak-to-your-manager haircut and all.

“I came in here today to get the new iPhone,” The boy said, “And this _useless_ woman,” – he pointed at the employee – “Tells me you’re out of stock!”

 _Oh, boy._ “Yes, that often happens a few days after a new release. We’ve ordered more–“

The boy’s mother stepped forward. “I told your employee to go check in the back, and she told me she was positive there weren’t any without even bothering to look. We came in today to get Joffrey an iPhone and we’re not leaving without one.”

“We’ve had many requests today, I assure you that she’s absolutely right, there are none in the back.”

Jon knew exactly what she was going to say next before she even opened her mouth. “I want to speak to a manager.”

“I am the floor manager. If you’ll come with me, we can put in a hold on one of the phones when the next shipment comes in.”

“I don’t want to wait!” Joffrey shouted. “Go. Check. Again.”

Jon smiled his best fake smile and turned to the still terrified employee. “Jeyne, why don’t you go look. Make sure we didn’t miss anything.” She nodded, clearly relieved, and practically ran away. He turned back to Joffrey and his mother. “Why don’t we go over to the counter and get everything else taken care of while she’s doing that?”

The woman scowled at him and finally nodded. “Robert!” She called to a man standing a little way off. He looked up and she waved him over. Jon rolled his eyes at his camo and neon green hat. It was almost too good to be true.

Jon managed to placate them by going through the whole process as though they were getting the phone today. He knew Jeyne wouldn’t find anything, but hopefully when it came to that they would settle for picking it up later.

Jeyne came back just when they were finishing the last item. She shook her head. “Looks like we don’t have any today, like I said. We’ll reserve one for you and call you when it’s ready to be picked up.”

Robert stepped forward before either of them could speak, clearly ready to go. “We’ll take that.”

“No!” Joffrey yelled. “Daaad!”

 _So close._ Jon thought, trying to continue the transaction, ignoring Joffrey. “Can I have a phone number to call when it’s ready?”

Robert turned around “Cersei, why don’t you two leave? I’ll finish up here.”

Cersei shook her head and stopped to glare at Jon, but turned to go all the same. “Come on, Joff. We’ll get it soon enough.” He stood stubbornly in place.

Robert gave Jon the number. “Is that all?”

“Yes, we completed everything else earlier. Thank you! Have a nice day.”

“This isn’t fair!” Joffrey whined. “Isn’t there anything else you can do?”

Jon leaned over the counter to look at him. He was ready to be done with this. “I’m afraid not.”

Joffrey scowled at him, looked him straight in the eye, and then, in one sweep, knocked all of the earbuds off the counter and onto the floor. They scattered everywhere, flying across the floor and under the displays.

“Joffrey!” Robert yelled, and took him around the shoulders to lead him out. “I’m so sorry.” He said to Jon, staring in disbelief. They fled before he could say anything else, running out of the store and away from the mess they’d caused.

Jon dropped his head down, both elbows on the counter, and let out a long breath. He looked up to find Jeyne staring wide-eyed at him. He forced a smile. “Next time, just humor them and look in the back right away,” He said. “Let’s clean this up.”

“Does that happen often? I’m new,” Jeyne asked. She got down to fish a case out from under one of the displays.

“More often after a release, but yeah. Well, maybe not this far,” He deposited a handful of cases on the counter and turned to get more, “But customers getting angry? All the time.”

“I’m glad you came to help.”

“It’s no problem. I know you don’t have much experience yet, and I saw you were in trouble.” Jon started on putting the cases back in the right place. “That’s the fourth one today.”

“Well, thanks.”

It took almost ten minutes to get everything cleaned up and organized, after which he sent Jeyne off to take a few minute’s break. He checked his watch. _Four more hours,_ he thought, and rubbed his eyes, very ready to go home.

 

***

 

“I have had a _very_ long day.” Jon said the moment Tormund opened the door. “And I am very ready to just watch a movie and relax.”

“Wow. You look exhausted.” He stepped aside to let Jon in and closed the door quickly against the cold. “You want tea or something?”

“Actually, that would be great.” The title screen of _The Phantom Menace_ was already up when he sat, waiting for Tormund to come back where he’d disappeared to make the tea.

“Hey, Jon, come here a minute!” Was yelled across the house, and Jon sighed and stood, following the noise to the small kitchen across from the sitting room.

“Yeah?” He asked, leaning against the counter. He already suspected he would be falling asleep during the movie.

“Sorry to make you get up. Here, pick your tea.” He handed over a metal canister. Jon grabbed a bag and handed them back. “Sit here, or go back and wait, whatever you like.”

Jon took a seat at the table. “I was almost late for this.” He started on a his rant, but knew Tormund wouldn’t mind. “I had to stay nearly two more hours past when I was supposed to leave to deal with a stock problem, and of course, traffic was awful on the way over. I only had time to let Ghost out for a bit and eat a microwave dinner before coming over here.”

“Ouch.” Tormund turned around and leaned against the counter to listen while the water boiled.

“Yeah. Fridays are usually hectic anyway, but today was extra bad since we just had that new iPhone come in, and of course today is the day we run out of it. I had to deal with no less than six angry customers – including one who _knocked all of the earbuds off the counter._ Little brat.”

“I won’t blame you if you fall asleep halfway through the movie.” Tormund poured the water and handed Jon his tea. “If you want sugar or anything, it’s all on the counter over there.”

“No thanks, I’m good.” Jon followed Tormund back into the TV room and they started the movie.

The tea was good, and Jon finally started to relax. Unfortunately he also started to fall asleep, struggling to focus on the movie before they were even half an hour in. Once he’d finished his tea he had nothing to keep himself occupied, and the couch was soft and warm. He curled up and leaned on the edge to get more comfortable.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew a pair of strong arms slid under him, drifting on the edge of waking for a moment just enough to feel it. He was being carried, he knew, but not where, and then he was in a bed, covers pulled up, and everything melted away again.

 

***

 

Jon woke up, pulled the covers over his head, and turned over. There was a moment of confusion as he realized that this didn’t feel like his bed – the mattress, the covers, the light, it was all wrong. _Where the hell am I?_

The distant sound of someone moving around brought him to his senses. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep while watching the movie last night. He didn’t remember how he had gotten up here, though… which meant that Tormund had probably carried him, he realized. He smiled softly at the thought.

He was exhausted, still in his clothes from the night before. Looking around, he realized he was in a guest bedroom. He stood and walked over to the door, slowly getting his bearings.

Tormund was sitting in the living room on his laptop, drinking coffee and eating toast. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning.” Jon grimaced and blinked into the light. “I’m assuming I fell asleep during the movie?”

“You were out cold. Figured I’d just let you sleep instead of trying to wake you up enough to get over to next door. I’ve got coffee set up for you if you want to make some.”

Jon nodded and started towards the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, suddenly realizing something. “Shoot. Ghost is probably starving by now.”

Tormund shook his head. “Took care of it. Your keys were in your pocket.” He tossed them across the room to Jon, who miraculously caught them. “Go make your coffee.”

Jon knew he must have looked absolutely awful, clothes wrinkled and smelly, hair a mess, but he found that he didn’t really mind. Tormund had set out everything he might want and already filled the boiler with water, only letting him make it so it would be fresh, and Jon was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of fondness.

He sat across from Tormund with his coffee and felt that his phone was still in his pocket. “Thanks for letting me sleep. And for taking care of Ghost.”

“Yeah, no problem.

“And I don’t even mind you breaking into my house to do it.” He raised his eyebrows at Tormund in jest and took a sip of his coffee.

“I didn’t break in! I had your keys.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know about it, so that doesn’t count.”

Tormund shook his head and turned back to his laptop. Jon checked his phone as he drank. He couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift to how domestic this all was, and he knew he would be happy to do this every morning, if Tormund wanted the same.

Well, minus the still being in your clothes from the night before part. And maybe in a different bed – or rather, the same bed. He tried to forget about it. It was just a stupid crush anyway, he should be glad to be friends. It was hard getting up, but he had to go home eventually. The chill that greeted him as he opened the door after saying his goodbyes made him want to stay, but he pushed through it and out into the cold.


	5. Chapter 5

Jon had stopped pushing for his Saturday night outings with Edd, and they’d fallen to the wayside a little bit, but this Saturday they’d actually gone through with their plans. They went out to a bar around 6 and had just now gotten their food –burgers and fries, nothing fancy. It was good to spend some time with Edd, though, no matter how boring the food. They hadn’t seen each other nearly as much lately.

“How’s work been?” Edd asked, watching one of the games across the bar.

“It’s good. We’ve had a rough couple of weeks, though. Rude customers, that kind of thing.”

“I don’t know why you still work there. You should really try and get something better.”

“Yeah, sure. Who’s going to hire someone with an English degree? I should be glad I’m working middle management. It would take forever to get back to that point at another Job.” Jon paused to take a sip of beer and gather his thoughts. “Besides, I like the people at my job, I’ve got time to do other things, and a house – because of my parents’ money, yes, but whatever.”

“Speaking of your house. You never really explained to me what happened with Tormund? When did he stop being the neighbor you just _couldn’t stop_ complaining about and become the neighbor you invited to your eight-person dinner parties?” Edd sounded almost scandalized, and definitely confused.

Jon shrugged. “I don’t know, to be honest. One thing led to another and we ended up becoming friends. He’s actually quite nice, once you get to know him.”

“I mean, he sure seemed nice at that party, but I wasn’t expecting to see him in the first place. You always hated him, until suddenly you didn’t anymore.”

“That’s pretty much it. It just kind of happened.”

“I don’t get it.” Edd stopped and looked at Jon, suddenly realizing something. “Wait a minute. You _like_ him, don’t you.”

Jon could only laugh. “So what?”

“Oh my god. I can’t believe this.”

“Not that hard to believe. He’s pretty handsome.” Jon smiled. He hadn’t realized how closely he had been guarding his feelings. He hadn’t told anyone. It felt good to laugh about it, though, and he was glad.

Edd shook his head in disbelief. “Everything makes so much more sense now. You should’ve told me.”

“This is a pretty recent development.”

“Alright, fine, but still. I won’t lie, Jon, I think it’s a little weird.”

“How come?” Jon asked.

“I don’t know, I mean… Like I said, it was only recently that you stopped hating him. He kind of intimidates me. I don’t particularly like him.” He raised his glass to take a sip and paused halfway. “No, forget about it. If you’re happy, it’s great.”

“I am.” Jon said, only really just realizing it himself. Of course, nothing had happened – yet – but just being around Tormund had made him happier than he’d been in months. He was good company, he was funny, he was kind. It was good, no matter where it went.

 

***

 

“Hello?”

Jon smiled as he heard Ygritte’s voice again for the first time in months. He lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. “Hey.”

“Hey, Jon. What’s up?”

Jon hesitated for a moment. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Uh oh,” She said, but Jon could hear laughter in her voice. “What is it this time?”

Jon decided to take the plunge instead of talking around it. This was Ygritte, there was no point pretending. “It’s about Tormund. You were right.”

“Finally!” Ygritte giggled a little. “No way. Tell me everything.”

“There’s not much to tell. I just realized some things. Finally.” He added, giving in, knowing she was right.

“No, come on. I need details.”

“All right, fine.” Jon laughed and turned over, figuring if he was going to gossip he might as well be in the customary position. “I mean, you’ve heard a lot of it in texts. The moment everything fell into place was kind of funny, actually. I got flirted with at ten am in Starbucks.”

“By Tormund? That’s why you were at Starbucks, I’m assuming.”

“Yes, of course that’s why I was there. But no, it was some random lady. I was just sitting in the corner working, I don’t know what I did to get her attention.”

“Well, you’re pretty cute.” Ygritte teased. “Go on. Did you catch Tormund making jealous faces?”

“Ha! No. It was even better. He came over and pretended to be my boyfriend to get her to go away.”

There was a long pause on the other end. “No way.”

“Yep.”

“How are you alive? If someone I had a crush on did that, I know I wouldn’t survive.”

“Pretty sure my heart stopped for a second, yeah. But anyway. That was it, I was gone.” Jon smiled at the memory. It was sweet and funny now, though he was panicked at the time.

“This is great. I can’t believe this, I called it months ago.”

Jon sighed. “Yeah, you did.” Ygritte had gotten this idea into her head as soon as she knew she was moving away. It had mostly been in jest, but Jon could tell she had always thought there could be something real there.

“How long ago was this?” Ygritte asked.

“Uh. Almost a month now. Late October.”

“And you’re only telling me now?” Ygritte laughed. “So you’ve been having your movie nights every week since then and you haven’t gotten together yet? Get your act together, Jon.”

“Oh hush. You remember having to make the first move, don’t you? Besides, I have literally no idea how Tormund hypothetically feels about all this.”

“Dude, go for it. I’d give you ninety percent. Maybe more.”

“Really? Ygritte, you haven’t seen any of this. Hell, he’s probably straight anyway.”

“Oh, he’s not straight.” Ygritte said matter-of-factly.

Jon stopped. That was new information, important information. “What?”

“Definitely. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.” Jon only half listened to Ygritte, trying to process it. This changed things. “I mean, I don’t actually know how he identifies, but I spent enough time around him to know he’s something other than straight.” She laughed, a hint of disbelief creeping into it. “I suppose you didn’t hang out with us much, but still. I must have mentioned it at some point.”

“You never did.”

“Wow. That makes a difference for you then, doesn’t it.”

“Yeah… It really does.” Jon said slowly.

There was a long moment of silence. “So what are you gonna do about it, then?”

“I don’t know. Something, eventually. Probably.”

“Probably.” Ygritte almost sounded disappointed.

“I’m cool with being friends for now. I mean, six months ago I could barely hold a civil conversation with him. There’s still a six foot tall fence between our houses for a reason.”

“I suppose. Let me know if you want any advice, though.” She paused, and when she spoke again it was serious and quiet. “I want you to be happy, Jon.”

“I am happy.”

“I honestly think this could work out really well for you. Give it a chance.”

“I will, if I get a chance. Don’t worry.”

“I’ve gotta go. Text me, yeah?”

“I will.”

“Bye. Good luck.”

“Bye, Ygritte.”

Jon listened to the dead air for a moment before hanging up. He stared at the ceiling for a little while, thinking over things. It was easier when he was mostly convinced there was no chance of reciprocation. This made things complicated, this made things possible, and it scared Jon as much as it excited him.


	6. Chapter 6

Jon gave up and got out of bed when the doorbell rang for the third time. Normally he would dismiss it as some kids playing a prank, but they usually didn’t ring it more than once. “Two am in the fucking morning.” He mumbled to himself. “Who the hell is standing out in this cold at _two in the fucking morning?_ Getting me out of my warm bed, what could possibly be so important?” They were in the middle of a cold snap, and it was literally freezing outside.

The doorbell rang again when he was halfway down the hallway. “Yeah, I’m coming!” He shouted. He pulled the door open. “Do you know what time-” He stopped.

Tormund was standing outside wearing a backpack and holding a blanket under one arm. They stared at each other for a moment. “The power’s out at my house.” He said.

“Oh.” Jon replied. It took him a few seconds to realize what was being asked. “Damn. Come in, get warm.” He stood aside to let Tormund in and quickly shut the door. He blinked and grimaced as he turned the lights on.

“It’s been out since around six. I thought I could just bundle up and call in the morning, but at some point it got to be too much. I don’t have very good insulation.” He admitted. “I meant to fix that this fall, but I forgot.”

“Want to sleep over here, then? I can only offer you the couch, but at least it’s warm.” Jon said.

“Yes, thank you.” Tormund replied, clearly relieved that he didn’t have to ask. “The couch is more than enough.”

“Let me make you something hot to drink. You must be freezing.” He disappeared into the kitchen before Tormund could refuse. “Is tea good?”

“Tea would be great.” Tormund stood in the door to the kitchen, free of his stuff. “I’m sorry I woke you up, I know it’s super late. I just didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s fine, really.” Jon turned and rubbed his eyes, waiting for the water to boil. “Don’t worry about it. A visit from you is always welcome. And it’s not your fault the power went out.” He quickly added, softening the statement. He risked a quick glance over his shoulder and felt just a hint of nerves rise in his chest at Tormund’s smile.

Jon handed Tormund the finished tea and followed him into the living room. He set the tea on the table next to the couch and sat down. “Thanks for this. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anything else you need?”

“No, I think I’m good.”

“Alright. Goodnight then.” Jon started to retreat back to his bedroom. “Sleep well.”

It was comforting having another person in the house somehow. Jon half expected to be unable to sleep knowing Tormund was just in the other room, but he found himself drifting off easily. Maybe it was just that it was 2am and he was exhausted, but he suspected there was something more to it.

 

***

 

Tormund was still asleep when Jon stumbled into the kitchen to make his morning coffee. It made sense, he had only gotten to sleep after 2, where Jon had slept some before then. He took a seat in one of the armchairs in the living room to drink his coffee and check his email, trying not to stare too much but allowing himself the occasional glance. Tormund was surprisingly quiet in sleep, turned away so Jon couldn't see his face, but he could see his chest rising and falling softly and it comforted him. Tormund shifted and Jon quickly looked down at his laptop as he turned over and blinked his eyes open. "Morning," He mumbled.

"Morning." Jon answered. "Sleep Alright?"

"Well enough." He sat up and blinked into the light streaming through the front window.

"I was just about to make breakfast. Want me to make you some eggs for you as well?"

"Sure, thanks. I'll call the power company as soon as I'm actually awake. See how soon they can get things fixed and get me out of your hair."

"It's fine, really." Jon set his computer aside and got up. "Just ask if you need anything."

A couple minutes later he had started to melt the butter for the eggs, and he could hear Tormund on the phone in the other room. He caught the occasional phrase, but couldn't really make out the conversation. Tormund appeared in the kitchen just before he was done with the eggs and sat down at the table.

"Do you want anything else? Coffee? Orange juice?" Jon asked as he put Tormund's plate down.

"I'm crashing on your couch, Jon, not having a sleepover. You don't have to do any of this."

"It's no bother, really. It doesn't matter why you're here, you're in my house, I'll take care of whatever you need. Don’t worry about it.” Truthfully, he would have preferred a different reason, but he'd take what he could get. He pulled out a chair and sat. "If you change your mind, just go ahead and grab what you want."

"So they said they'd send someone over to look at it later today. They also said they're kind of swamped because of all the ice from the cold snap, and it's lower priority since it's one house.”

“Any idea why it happened?” Jon asked.

“Yeah, I checked it out a little bit yesterday, and it looks like a tree branch broke and fell on the power line. It’s a bit of a mess back there.”

"That's not good. I hope they get it fixed soon."

Tormund bit his lip, fast enough that Jon barely saw it. “Want your house back?”

Jon quickly shook his head. “Just thought you’d want to get home.”

Plates and silverware clinked quietly as the finished the eggs. Jon stood. "I should walk Ghost. Go ahead and use anything if you want something else to eat."

Tormund nodded in acknowledgement and Jon left quickly, knowing Ghost would be impatient. He didn't seem to have noticed Tormund's presence in the house yet, since he'd been in Jon's room all night. He did now, though, protesting as Jon dragged him away from the kitchen to the door, until he saw the leash in Jon’s hand and followed him out.

It was strange. A few short months ago he’d been nervous about having Tormund in his house at all, Jon realized, and now he was perfectly comfortable leaving him alone there. It didn't surprise him, not really, but it was something concrete, a little more solid.

After a quick trip to grab a few more things for the rest of the morning, they sat together in Jon’s living room, passing the time until the power company came. Jon worked in the chair by the window, and Ghost joined Tormund on the couch, clearly happy to have him. "He's practically your dog too now," Jon had said, and Tormund had laughed and turned to Ghost to ask his opinion. The whole thing made Jon wish for this every morning even more, and a longing started to settle into his chest, contentment with the friendship that they did have slowly dissolving and morphing into a desire for something more. He wanted Ghost to be their dog, for real, he wanted to take Tormund's blanket off the couch and put it back on _their_ bed, he wanted Tormund.

It was a bittersweet feeling. He knew he was no longer willing to just stay friends, he knew he was willing to risk it, but he didn’t know if Tormund felt the same. He thought he might, and the thought gave him some comfort, but he still worried what would happen if he was wrong, and he had no idea how to go about making a move. It had been so long since he’d had to make the first move.

Tormund left the house at 11 to talk to the inspector. He returned half an hour later with another bag. “They said they won’t be able to send anyone over until tomorrow, so I brought more stuff. Looks like I’ll be spending the night again.”

"Sounds good." Jon was glad. He knew he shouldn't be, it meant another night for Tormund sleeping on an uncomfortable couch in an unfamiliar house, but it also meant he got to spend the whole day with Tormund. He was excited at the prospect. "You're lucky, I don't have anything going on today."

"Neither do I. I've gained enough seniority to avoid working most Saturdays."

"What's our plan, then? Just hang out here?"

"I guess so. I can make us something for lunch, if you want. Return the favor."

Jon shrugged. "Sure, if you don't mind." He paused. "Hey, wait, it's Saturday. Aren't you going to have a party tonight?"

"Not with the power out. I'll have to call it off." He pulled out his phone, clearly just realizing that as well. "So what kind of stuff do you have I can cook with? What should I make?"

"You know what, I was going to go shopping tomorrow. I don't actually have much. You can probably throw something together for lunch, but we might not have enough for a good dinner." Jon said.

"Why don't we go out for dinner then?"

It was so nonchalant that it took Jon a moment to realize what had been said. It hit him hard, reeling mentally. It made perfect sense, it was just friendly, but the idea still caught him off guard – in a good way. "That sounds great." He replied. "Where?"

They bounced ideas off each other for a little while and finally settled on a local steakhouse. Tormund searched the cupboards and eventually made grilled cheese after teasing Jon about his lack of food. Jon could have sworn it was the best grilled cheese he had ever had.

Tormund took a quick shower and went back to his house to put on clean clothes before they left. They took Jon’s car. He had been to the place before once, with Ygritte, the irony of which was not lost on him. They were seated in a little booth in a corner, clearly meant to be intimate. Jon couldn’t complain.

Jon asked for beer. Tormund asked if he would have to drive home. Jon knew that he would be sober by the end of the meal, but he needed something now to calm his nerves. He left the second part out.

“What are you thinking of getting?” Jon asked, just to fill the silence.

“Barbeque chicken, probably. I’ve heard it’s good here.”

“Chicken? Really? You can get chicken almost anywhere.”

Tormund shrugged. “I like chicken. You?”

Jon laughed softly and shook his head at Tormund. “It’s a steakhouse, I’m getting a steak. Like a normal person.”

“Hey, come on, not everyone orders steak at steakhouses. That’s why there are other things on the menu.” Tormund teased.

“Yes, but–“ Jon sighed. “Nevermind. I’m sure the chicken will be great.”

It was, Jon discovered when their food arrived and Tormund immediately offered him a bite, just to prove the point. He admitted he was wrong after much exaggerated posturing and they both laughed. He tried to steal another bite, but Tormund batted his hand away.

“So are you annoyed that you’re missing your party?” Jon asked, feeling a little more relaxed now. The setting sun came through the window, casting warm light on their faces, and the food was starting to settle in his stomach.

“Not really.” Tormund answered. “I like spending time with those guys, but I get to do it every week. A change of pace is good.”

“You like cheap steakhouses?” Jon teased.

He was answered by a soft kick to his shoe under the table. “I like you.”

Jon stopped, fork halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“What, am I not allowed to say that? We have fun together, don’t we? Or were you lying about enjoying Star Wars?” Tormund laughed at the shock on Jon’s face and turned back to his food.

_Fork, mouth._ _Right._ “Yeah, I guess so.”

Before he knew it they were done, and the waitress came to clear their plates. “Do you have dessert at home?” Tormund asked. “You had ice cream or something, yeah?”

“I think so.” Jon answered. “We’ll have the check, thanks.”

“This was nice. We should do this again sometime.” Tormund said when the waitress left. “We don’t have to have a reason to go out and do something nice, do we?”

Jon’s breath caught in his throat. “We should. I had fun. And the food was great.”

The waitress came back with the check a few moments later. They both reached for it, pausing a few inches short. “It’s on me.” Tormund said.

“No, you’re the guest, we wouldn’t have gone out if you weren’t staying at my place. I’ll take care of it.”

“No, really. I suggested coming here, I’m already inconveniencing you enough. I’ll pay.”

“Alright.” Jon pulled on his coat. He was sober for the drive home, but sort of wished he wasn’t. It was quiet and intense in the small space.

“I’m just going to let Ghost out for a minute.” Jon said as soon as they got in the house, desperate for a moment alone. Ghost was happy to see them and ran out the back door as soon as Jon opened it. He followed Ghost out into the cold, glad for the blast of icy air that helped to calm his nerves a little. He half wanted to stay outside, avoid dealing with whatever might happen when he came in – which was probably nothing anyway. He took one last deep breath, letting the cold air fill his lungs, and went back inside. “Want a drink? I’m getting wine.” He called from the kitchen.

“I’ll have some.” Tormund answered, and Jon brought out the bottle and two glasses. He sat on the other end of the couch and poured Tormund’s glass. Ghost sat in front of the couch, begging to be let up.

“Ghost, stay,” Jon said, remembering what had happened last time. Ghost reluctantly lay down at their feet. Jon took something between a sip and a gulp of wine and set his glass down. It took a lot of effort to pace himself, to avoid obviously trying to get tipsy. “I put a little more effort into training him off the couch after the party.”

Tormund let out a short laugh. “I’m surprised it’s working. His two favorite people are on the couch. Right, Ghost?” He said. Ghost whined and moved his head on top of Tormund’s feet. “I think that’s a yes.” Tormund said to Jon, grinning.

“Do dogs usually like you this much, or is it just him?”

“They usually like me, but not like this. There’s somebody in the free folk who’s practically a dog whisperer. I’d like to see him with Ghost.”

“Yeah?” Jon asked. “I’m sure you’ve got good stories from them.”

“Sure do. Want to hear one?”

“Go ahead.” Jon swirled his glass a little, smiling. “I’d love to.”

“Alright, well. There was that one time with the newbie. Someone brought along a friend who clearly had no real desire to be on a bike and no idea how to ride. That’s a good one.”

“Go on.”

“I mean, he showed up what was clearly an extra helmet, and had to have help putting it on. He kept insisting he wanted to go, but had to be told everything. He got the hang of it eventually and we did a short ride before stopping for lunch. He didn’t finish, and he didn’t have a bag or a pocket or anything, but despite all of our advice he decided to take his leftovers with him.”

Jon sat listening, leaning back, slowly turning towards him.

“So he gets on the bike behind his friend, and he’s got this burrito clutched in his hand. And of course everyone knows how this is going to end but he keeps insisting it’s fine, and we get out on the road, and we’re going way faster than that morning, out on the highway.”

“Uh oh.”

Tormund chuckled. “Yeah. I was in front of them, so I didn’t see it happen, but we pulled off at the next stop and he’s squeezed the burrito out of the wrapping. The end of it is busted open and there were bits of filling all over the driver’s jacket. Just plastered over the front by the wind. Nobody had a napkin either. He looked ridiculous. He went the rest of the day like that.”

 “Oh my god.” Jon said, giggling. He had turned his whole body towards Tormund, pulling one leg up onto the couch. He held his glass down by his knees, forgotten.

“Yep. He never lived that one down. Moral of the story: don’t let newbies do stupid things. Sometimes it backfires. Spectacularly.”

There was an awkward pause filled by quiet laughter. Jon looked up and they made eye contact, the mood suddenly shifting to something far more serious. Jon knew if he was going to say something tonight, this was his moment. He opened his mouth to speak. “I… I’ll be right back.”

Jon fled to the bathroom, glad it was a legitimate excuse. _What the hell am I doing?_ He couldn’t do this. He didn’t know how to do this. He washed his hands and returned to the living room, made a show of checking his phone. The moment was gone. “It’s getting late.”

“It is. We should sleep.” Tormund said. Jon thought the look on Tormund’s face meant he understood – at least, he hoped so.

“You can go ahead and use the bathroom first, I still have a few things to take care of here.” He took the now empty glasses and the bottle and returned them to the kitchen.

“Jon.” Tormund stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad my power went out.”

Jon laughed. “Me too.”

Tormund nodded and turned away, disappearing into the bathroom.

The tension of the night before was gone in the morning. The power came back on at Tormund’s house around noon, and Jon helped carry his stuff over while starting with Ghost’s morning walk, stopping outside Tormund’s door for a minute.

Tomund squatted down to Ghost. “I bet you’ll miss me, huh?” Ghost licked him as an answer. He stood up again and stopped halfway into the open door. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“For sure.” Jon waved goodbye as he left. Tormund stood at the door watching until he reached the end of the driveway, before disappearing inside with a nod.


	7. Chapter 7

Jon 10:24 am: Want to come over for lunch sometime?

 

He held his breath and hit send. It had only been a few days since the whole power debacle. He figured he should push that advantage. Lunch was low key, low stress. He could handle lunch.

 

Tormund 10:30 am: I’m currently standing in my kitchen realizing I don’t have anything for lunch.

Tormund 10:30 am: Your timing could not be better.

 

Tormund 10:36 am: If that works, of course?

 

Jon had been staring at his phone since the first text. He wasn’t really ready for lunch _now._ But if it was going to happen now, he supposed he would have to be ready.

 

Jon 10:38 am: Let me check if I have stuff. If so, yes

Jon 10:45 am: We’re good. 11:30?

 

Tormund 10:47 am: Sounds great.

 

There wasn’t much, but Jon thought he could throw together a couple of good sandwiches and some chips. He even discovered a jar of pickles at the back of the fridge, glad to see that they were still good. The food didn’t matter, not really. He knew Tormund wasn’t expecting a gourmet meal.

Jon let Tormund in just after he was supposed to arrive. He followed Jon into the kitchen and they sat across the table from each other. Jon was pleased with what he’d managed to put together on such short notice.

“So how’s your morning been?” Jon asked, trying to play it cool.

“It’s been fine. You?”

“I woke up at 9:30, so it’s been great.” Jon replied. “I don’t have to be at work until 2.”

“That’s nice.”

An awkward pause inserted itself into the conversation and Jon searched for conversation topics. “Any plans for the holidays?”

“Not really. You?”

“I’m going back to visit my parents for a couple weeks. All my siblings can make it this year, which is nice.” He paused to take a bite. “Don’t you have a sister in town? Why aren’t you celebrating with her?”

Tormund shook his head, swallowed. “They’re going to Norway with the rest of my family. I can’t afford to go every year, though. I go every other.”

“I knew you were Norwegian, but I didn’t know you had family in Norway. That’s cool. It’s a shame you can’t go, though.” Jon began to relax.

He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

Jon had a thought. He dismissed it, and it came back again, nagging. It was stupid, it was incredibly forward, it didn’t make sense – and yet it made perfect sense. “Hey. I have a crazy idea.”

“Yeah?”

Jon took a breath. “Why don’t you come with me for the holidays? It’s just a two day trip by car, two weeks.”

Tormund leaned back in his chair, clearly surprised. That made Jon smile. “I couldn’t.”

“I’m sure my family won’t mind. Sansa and Robb have both brought friends before. The more the merrier, right? I don’t want you to be all alone on Christmas. That’s just sad.” Jon said in one breath, before he could lose his nerve. He held his breath as he watched Tormund turn over the idea in his mind.

“When would you be leaving?”

“The 21st. And we’d get back on the 4th.”

“You’re sure your family would be ok with it?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright.” Tormund shrugged and smiled. “Alright, I will.”

“Great.” Jon breathed a sigh of relief, excitement rising in his chest.

Tormund paused, smiled like he was the only one in on a joke. “But if you’re going to get me a present, you should do it on the 21st.”

“What?”

“I don’t celebrate Christmas. I mean, I basically do Christmas on the solstice, but call it Julenissen. It’s a Norwegian thing.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. Does that mean I need to come over on the 20th too?”

Tormund shrugged. “If you’re so committed to making sure I’m not alone, I suppose so.” He teased.

“Hey, if you want the company, I’m there.” The words came easily now, the uneasiness that was there at the beginning of the conversation gone.

Tormund paused and the atmosphere suddenly turned serious, his voice going soft and quiet. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Jon finished the last bite of his sandwich. “Let me know.”

 

***

 

Jon 12:44 am: What should I get Tormund for Christmas

Jon 12:45 am: This is a serious dilemma I’m very stuck

 

He’d been thinking about it all morning and hadn’t made any progress. He’d planned to go do all of his shopping after work, and had settled on gifts for everyone else. There was a list scribbled on a receipt that he kept adding to during his breaks, but nothing on it felt right.

 

Edd 12:54 am: Why are you asking me?

 

Jon smirked. He should have known that would be Edd’s response. Edd was right, though, he wouldn’t know. Ygritte was his best bet, but all of her answers were over the top – things she might get for Tormund, but that he definitely wouldn’t. Jon looked at his list one last time, crumpled it up, and threw it away. He’d figure it out when he got to the store.

Three hours later he parked outside the mall, ready to get in and get out. He didn’t enjoy shopping, and it was especially bad this time of year. Resigned to it, he got out of the car.

He saw it when he stopped for a couple of things in target, catching his eye from the end of the clearance rack. It was tacky. It was beat up and old looking, and over the top. It was perfect.

It was a leather jacket with _Lover_ written over the back in bold white letters.

Jon grinned and pulled it off the rack. He couldn’t help but laugh, he couldn’t believe he was considering it, and yet it seemed exactly like something Tormund would wear. It looked like it was the right size, too. He stood there staring at it. He put it in the basket. As an afterthought, he grabbed some chocolate.

Shopping done, Jon retreated to the car. _Four days now,_ he thought. He knew they'd have fun no matter what happened, and he was looking forward to seeing his family. The last time he'd seen most of them was a year ago, last holiday season. Besides, he loved roadtrips, and they were always better with a good companion.

 

***

 

Jon rang the doorbell and stepped back, shivering in the cold, wearing the only sweater he had that was actually flattering and a nice pair of dark jeans. He'd even thrown on a little cologne for good measure. His gift was tucked under an arm, nicely wrapped with a bow, outshining what was inside. He still didn't feel totally sure about it, but he was giving it anyway, purely on instinct. Ghost pulled at his leash.

The door opened. Tormund had on the same sweater he'd worn to Sansa's party. It still fit him stunningly well, and now Jon could appreciate the way his chest filled it out, the way the lines fell perfectly across his shoulders, without feeling lost. It was still overwhelming, but in an entirely different way. "Hey," He said, breathless, and smiled.

"Come on in." Tormund gave him an answering smile. The house was prettier than he'd ever seen it, clean and well lit, the strings of lights on the tree and the window adding an extra touch of magic. "Dinner's ready."

"It smells great." Jon took Ghost off his leash and hung up his coat. He followed his nose into the kitchen to find a table set for two, only enough dishes to feed them, the Christmas turkey replaced with a chicken. "Looks great. I'm starving."

"Let's eat, then. No reason to wait."

Ghost sat by the table begging for scraps. Jon shook his head at Tormund when he fed him a bite of chicken, but didn't do anything to stop it. "Are you all packed for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, except for the last few things. Do you want to load tonight or in the morning?"

"Up to you. Thanks." Jon took the offered dish of potatoes from Tormund. "Depends on how early you want to get up, and how much stuff you've got."

"It's just a suitcase and a small backpack. We can do it in the morning. And what about you? Got all your gifts bought and everything?" Tormund asked.

Jon thought briefly about the gift that he'd left with his coat. "Yep. I've got yours here, if you want to open after dinner?"

"I think I'll wait till the morning. There better be at least one gift waiting from the julenissen, yeah?"

"I suppose so." Jon was a little disappointed at having to wait to see his reaction, but it wasn't that big a deal. "I think you're going to like it."

“I’m sure.”

“So. Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“For the driving? No.” Tormund grinned. “For the rest of it? Yes.”

Jon tried to help Tormund with the dishes when they were done, but he was having none of it. He ended up waiting in the living room with a glass of cider, enjoying the peace. He'd always spent Christmas with big groups, and on one or two occasions by himself. This wasn't Christmas, but it felt like it. Spending it with just one other person, one who was special to him, who he felt comfortable with and had fun with and, dare he even think, cared for, was a wonderful feeling.

Tormund joined him with another glass. He sat next to him on the couch a little ways off, leaving a comfortable distance between them. "Want to tell me a little something about your family before you drop me into their midst?"

Jon laughed. "Sure, wouldn't hurt. Where do you want to start?"

"I don't know. Doesn't matter. It just occurred to me I know basically nothing about them except for Sansa. If I'm going to spend a week with them, I should at least know all their names."

"Alright, well." Jon took a sip of his cider and turned to face Tormund. " Rickon and Bran are the only two still at home. Rickon is fifteen, Bran is eighteen.”

"You have a lot of siblings, don't you."

"Yeah, I kind of do. We're that kind of family. Arya is twenty, she's in college right now. You'll like her. She's feisty. And you already know Sansa."

"I like Sansa. She seems like she's very nice."

"She is. Robb is my older brother. He can make it this year, which is nice. I haven't actually seen him in a while."

"I thought you were the oldest." Tormund said, surprised.

"Nope. That's it, though, and he's not that much older than me. Around a year and a half."

"And your parents?"

"I'm sure Ned will like you, he's easygoing. Catelyn might be a little wary, but that's just the way she is." Jon didn't mention that Catelyn was the one least comfortable with having a stranger over for Christmas. Still, he didn't think she'd start any fights over it. He checked his watch. "I should probably leave by nine. Put my stuff together and get some sleep."

"We have an hour then. Want to watch Christmas programming and chat with the volume low?"

Jon smiled softly. "That sounds great."

They moved into the TV room and did exactly that, neither really feeling the need to fill to quiet, just enjoying it. Some cheesy movie murmured in the background. Every once in a while one of them made a comment about it and they both chuckled softly. The cider started to give Jon a pleasant buzz, and when Tormund's arm made it over Jon's shoulders, he wasn't surprised.

They sat like that until almost thirty minutes after Jon said he was going to leave. Finally he shifted. "I have to go." He said quietly.

"I know." Tormund responded. Neither of them moved. Finally Tormund pulled away, his hand lingering for half a moment too long on Jon’s back. "Go on. I'll see you in the morning."

Jon got up and went over to the foyer. His present lay there, forgotten. He took it and placed it under the tree, clipped Ghost to his leash, and left, smiling softly.


	8. Chapter 8

It was early and cold, flurries blowing in the wind as Jon dragged his bags outside and into the trunk of his car, one with his stuff and another for his gifts. Tormund came up the driveway, travel mug in one hand, suitcase dragging behind him in the other. “You ready?” He asked.

“Almost. Just have to grab the last couple things.” He went back into the house to get them and Ghost. He bolted out the front door, straight to Tormund, who opened the back door for him.

Doors closed, everything packed away, Tormund in the passenger seat and Jon in the driver’s seat, Ghost sitting in the back, sticking his head between the seats. “Let’s go,” Jon said, and started the car.

“One more thing.” Tormund pulled something out of his backpack – Jon’s gift, still wrapped.

“You waited.” Jon smiled. “Go ahead then, open it. That one first.” He pointed at the smaller package.

“Chocolate. Nice, always good.” He turned to the second package. The wrapping crinkled as he pulled the jacket out of the bag, folded. He held it up. “And a good jacket, looks like it fits me–“

Jon laughed. “Turn it around.”

Tormund did, and immediately burst into laughter. “Oh my god. It’s so tacky.” He grinned at Jon. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Jon put the car in reverse as Tormund folded it away. “I knew you’d like it. Now are we going? Didn’t forget anything?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Alright. Let’s drive.” Jon pulled out of the driveway and they were off, headed west toward Winterfell. They passed through the city and out into the country, white fields passing by, radio on in the background. Jon tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. He was looking forward to seeing Winterfell again. He liked his own house, but it was nothing compared to Winterfell’s long halls and endless rooms. To be there, and see it full of his family again, was going to be a treat.

“So I’ve always been curious,” He said, turning to Tormund suddenly. “How does someone working at Starbucks have such a nice house all to themselves? No offense." He added quickly.

"I could ask you the same question."

Jon shrugged. "True. You first."

"I knew the previous owner, and I was sitting on a lot of inheritance. He was having trouble selling the house. I ended up buying it at a pretty significant discount. Simple, really. It's very nice to have. And you?"

"I used my parents' money. They have a lot of money." Jon said matter-of-factly. He looked over and Tormund with his single eyebrow raised and laughed. "What? It's true."

"I guess so, considering where we're going. If it's a named house, it must be special."

"It is. I love Winterfell. It's beautiful, and huge, and up in the mountains – it was an incredible place to grow up. You're gonna love it."

"I'm sure I will." Tormund turned and reached into the back seat for a snack.

"Can you grab me a granola bar?" Jon asked. "While you're at it."

Tormund passed one to him, opened. Jon thanked him and they fell quiet again. He thought over the next couple weeks. He was surprised that he wasn't very nervous – he should have been, he was bringing someone home to his family who almost none of them knew, who he'd only really been friends with for a few months, who he was possibly, maybe, hopefully on the brink of kissing. It wasn't something he'd ever done before, obviously. Instead of nervous, though, he felt at peace, the seeming inevitability of things taking away all the uncertainty and letting him just enjoy the moment. It would be kind of frustrating to spend the entire time in the house, though. An idea occurred to Jon. "Do you like winter sports?" He asked.

"Which ones? And where did that come from?" Tormund responded, confused.

Jon smiled ahead at the road. "Any. We've got a cabin up in the mountains, I thought it might be fun to go up there for a day or two, if you're interested. Give you a little respite from a house full of strangers."

Tormund was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke his voice was low and soft, almost flirtatious. "Yeah. I'd like that."

They stopped for lunch at a McDonalds at the kind of around noon that only applied on roadtrips, switching drivers on the way out. Jon pretended to stare out the window and watched Tormund out of the corner of his eye. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music, and Jon found himself lightly bouncing his foot along with him.

They switched once more along the side of the road, shivering against the sudden cold for a few moments. Jon drove them into town as sunset stained the snow pink and orange and red, flashing off the windows. Darkness fell and the engine stopped.

The hotel was just on the border between cheap and dingy, but it was the only one in the right place Jon could find that allowed pets. Jon dragged his suitcase behind him while Tormund carried only a backpack and held Ghost’s leash. Their room was at the very end of the hallway. The hotel seemed nearly abandoned, almost silent. The quiet whirr of the heater greeted them as they entered their room and dropped their bags.

Tormund sat on the edge of the bed closer to the door. “What did you have in mind for dinner?”

“There’s a little place across the street we can go. We’ll have to leave Ghost, obviously, but he’ll be ok. It’s just pizza, it won’t take long.”

“I’m hungry now if you don’t want to wait.”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me.” Jon stretched and walked back to the door.

It was pretty standard food, and they ate in a hurry, focused on getting back to the hotel rather than enjoying the meal. Jon claimed the bed by the window when they returned, sprawling across it for a few moments’ rest. He checked his phone. “I can’t believe it’s only nine.”

“It feels later, doesn’t it.” Tormund sat on his own bed to pull off his shoes. “Driving is always exhausting. I’ll drive in the morning tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Jon spent a half hour on his phone before finally getting up to get ready for bed. Ghost was already fed and napping in the corner. They turned around as a courtesy while they changed for bed. Neither of them mentioned the mirror, the tension in the room thick enough to cut.

***

 

Tormund took one look at Jon and laughed. He was slumped over a table chewing absentmindedly on a dry doughnut, sipping a tiny cup of orange juice. He halfheartedly waved at Tormund, who got his own food and joined Jon. “Good thing I’m driving, huh?”

“Yes.” Jon said, short tempered. He’d slept fitfully, vivid dreams waking him up throughout the night, and once his eyes adjusted he could watch Tormund turning in the other bed, which didn’t help. “I’m definitely going to sleep in the car.”

“Yeah, I noticed you didn’t have any coffee. That’s a good plan.”

They got out to the car soon after, not wasting any time. They were supposed to be at Winterfell around four or five, in time for dinner. Jon knew it would be takeout waiting for them, and Arya and Robb weren’t going to be there yet anyway, but they still didn’t want to show up late.

Jon took off his jacket to pillow it under his head, against the window, and shivered against the lingering chill of the car as they got out onto the highway. The movement quickly let him drift off to sleep, though, the road smooth.

A particularly large bump woke him up again. The first thing he felt was the icy chill in his fingers and feet. The second thing was Tormund’s jacket, draped over his shoulders. He checked the time. He’d only slept for an hour or two. The car jumped again on the bumpy road and he pulled the jacket closer around himself. They were starting into the mountains, slowly gaining elevation. He gave up after a few moments and stretched, letting the jacket fall over his legs and yawning.

“Feeling better?” Tormund asked.

“Yeah, a lot.” He smiled as the scenery came into focus, snow-covered low hills building in the distance towards the mountains. “No problems navigating?”

“Nope, we’re fine. You’ll take over at lunch, yeah?”

“Of course.” Jon watched as Tormund reached over to turn on the radio. He heard the first notes of a familiar song and groaned. “Oh no, not this.”

Tormund grinned and turned it up. “Yes, this.”

_When I wake up, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you._

“Please don’t make me do this.”

Tormund glanced over at Jon, gleeful, opened his mouth. “When I go out, yeah I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who goes along with you.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “I fucking hate this song.” Tormund responded by singing louder, and Jon smiled despite himself, shaking his head.

"And I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more– Come on Jon, it's a perfect road trip song!"

Jon held back giggles, and then he looked over at Tormund, smirking and stupidly happy, and he couldn't help but sit back and enjoy it at least. "I just woke up!" He said, teasing.

"Ok, good, this'll wake you up for real! When I come home–"

Jon kept it up for a few more seconds, and then he joined in quietly, Tormund's enthusiasm infectious. "And if I grow old, well I know I'm gonna be I'm gonna be the man who's growing old with you."

"There you go!"

“What station is even playing this?”

“Does it matter?”

Jon rolled eyes again, but raised his voice as they reached the chorus, singing together, almost shouting. Ghost sat up in the back seat, woken up by the commotion. "And I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door–"

Jon kept singing, but his voice fell and softened as he looked at Tormund, glad he had to focus on the road and Jon was free to stare. He took in his blonde curls, tinted with just a hint of red, swept back in waves over his head, his fiery beard. The full force of his feelings hit Jon. He'd known a while ago that this wasn't just some passing crush, but now it truly set in. He raised his voice again and sang.

The rest of the trip passed in laughter, their smiles spreading to the person serving them at lunch, Jon taking over the wheel and driving them through roads he started to recognize from his childhood. He pointed out his favorite places, the streams where they'd play in the summer, the restaurants they'd eat at on the weekends, his favorite little stores in town.

They barely stopped talking until they rounded a corner and Winterfell came into view, perched on the side of the valley, waiting for them. Jon stopped the car at the top of the driveway and they sat for a moment. He'd been here almost every year for the holidays, and other times besides that, but this was Tormund's first time. He let him take it all in, the grey walls and the warm light shining from the windows and the roof covered in snow. "Shall we?"

"Yes, let's." Tormund got out of the car and went to fetch his suitcase. Jon let Ghost out and he ran straight to the front door, which opened.

"Right on time!" Ned shouted and leaned down to pet Ghost.

"Hey, dad." Jon hugged Ned and stepped aside, waiting for Tormund to make it up the driveway. "This is Tormund."

"Nice to meet you." They shook hands firmly and Ned stepped inside, holding the door open for Tormund to grab.

Jon saw Catelyn waiting just inside as he followed Tormund in. His suitcase full of gifts was still in the car, but he could go back and get it later. Jon stepped forward to give his mom a quick hug, more polite than warm. He ushered Tormund past her and into the house after a quick handshake.

“Let’s go drop our stuff off first.” Jon waved to Rickon in the living room and led them up the stairs to the back of the house. “Robb got the guest bedroom, so we’re sharing my old room. There’s two beds.”

“Sounds good.”

They stopped at the third door down the hall. Jon felt a wave of nostalgia as they stepped inside. He set his suitcase at the side of the room and sat down on his bed for a moment, looking around. A few posters were still up on the wall, the ones they’d left when they each went off to college and never bothered to take down.

Back downstairs they stopped in the middle of the living room, facing the sitting area where Rickon was lounging on one of the couches. He looked up when Jon entered, said “Hey,” and went straight back to whatever he was doing on his phone.

“Rickon, this is Tormund.”

“Hmm.”

“Rickon, come on, say hi.” Someone said behind them. Jon turned around. It was Bran, slowly wheeling over to them. “Hi, Tormund.” He said. “Nice to meet you!”

“Hey! Bran, I assume?” Tormund walked over and held out his hand.

“Yep.” Bran shook it and then held out his arms to Jon for a quick hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Jon replied. “Do you know where we’re ordering from? I assume we’re ordering.”

“Some Indian place.” Sansa shouted from the kitchen. She stuck her head around the corner. “Welcome home! Good to see you again, Tormund.”

They all went to sit at the table in the kitchen, save Rickon, who had retreated to his room. Ned and Catelyn had disappeared somewhere too, likely putting together their order. Jon was looking forward to a few weeks of having help putting together his meals.

“So have you found someone yet?” Jon asked Bran. Bran had been looking for a caretaker to help him when he went off to college next year. The last Jon had heard he’d been conducting interviews, but he hadn’t settled on anyone.

“Yeah! There’s someone who works as a live in caregiver, he lives where I want to go. His name’s Hodor, we had a Skype interview a few weeks ago. I haven’t committed yet, but I think that’s who we’re going to go with.”

“That’s great!’ Jon said. “You like him?”

“Yeah, he’s really fun.” Bran turned to Tormund. “So, are you going to introduce me properly?”

“Yeah! Sorry. Tormund’s my neighbor. He couldn’t be with his family over the holidays, so I invited him along.”

“Don’t worry, he’s nice. I met him in October.” Sansa added.

“So when are Arya and Robb getting in, exactly?” Jon asked.

“Arya early tomorrow, Robb late tomorrow. We’ll all be here soon,” Sansa finished with a smile.

Ned passed by the entrance to the kitchen and stopped for a moment. “Dinner should be here in an hour.” He said, before disappearing again.

They moved into the living room to watch TV and pass the time until dinner. Rickon, who had made it back in at some point, continued to sulk, but Jon caught him looking at Tormund every once in a while, clearly admiring him. He did look pretty cool, dressed in one of his nicer jackets – not the one Jon had gotten him, obviously. They sat together on their own arm of the couch, talking quietly every once in a while, but mostly Jon just listened to Sansa and Bran talking. Having so many siblings made it a little hard to keep track of what everyone was doing. It was nice to catch up.

Rickon and Bran disappeared once the food arrived to go play video games, while Sansa, Ned, Catelyn, Jon and Tormund sat around the kitchen table to eat. Tomorrow they would have their big family meal, and everyone would get to know Tormund properly, so today they engaged in small talk – how their trip was, if Tormund liked the house, the food.

Sansa cornered Jon after dinner. Jon left Tormund in the living room for a moment to get his laptop from upstairs and she stopped him outside his room. “So? Are you still in denial, or just trying to find a way to tell mom and dad you’re dating a big tattooed biker?” She asked, with just a hint of a grin.

“Neither.” Jon answered. “Not in denial, not dating.”

“Well, that’s something at least. Moving towards it, or hopeless pining?”

Jon gave her a playful shove, but answered anyway. “Moving towards it, I think.”

“Good luck.” She said and moved off down the hall, headed back downstairs. Jon retrieved his laptop and followed her. He settled into a corner of the couch, and ended up spending most of the night there. Tormund went up to get ready for bed first, clearly still a bit uncomfortable with his family. That was alright, and not unexpected. Jon was confident he’d warm up to them eventually.

When he did finally make it upstairs, more than an hour later, he opened the door to find Tormund sitting crosslegged on his bed, leaning against the wall. He looked up from his phone when Jon came in, only smiling in acknowledgment. “Having a good time?” Jon asked.

“I will, once I get to know the family a little better. I like what I’ve seen so far though.” He stretched and put the phone down, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “Going to sleep?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late. Is that ok with you?”

“I was about to sleep myself. I’m wiped out.”

Jon pulled his shirt off, put his sleep shirt on. Pretended he didn’t see Tormund staring. “Me too. I was going to shower, but I actually think I’ll do it in the morning.” He turned out the lights to finish changing and got in bed. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Tormund answered. “Sleep well.”


	9. Chapter 9

Tormund had already showered, dressed and disappeared by the time Jon finally woke up. He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

On his way to the kitchen he waved to Sansa and Catelyn in the living room. Tormund was sitting at the table with coffee and Rickon was making breakfast. It was only a few short minutes later that he saw a car pull up through the window. “That must be Arya.”

Arya came bursting through the front door like a storm. “I’m home!” She yelled, dragging a suitcase behind her and leaving it at the bottom of the stairs. Shoes were thrown vaguely towards the door and she stomped into the kitchen. Cabinets banged as she threw them open. “Any idea where the granola bars went?”

“Above the fridge.” Ned stepped into the room and Arya ran over to him to give him a quick hug, before running back across the room, dragging a chair behind her.

“Hi, Jon.” She said, balancing on the chair. “Is this the Tormund I’ve heard so much about?”

Tormund grinned at that. “Yep.”

“Well, we’ll have to see if you’re cool or not.” Arya hopped down. “If Jon likes you, you’re probably alright. But I’m starving, so if you’ll excuse me–” She turned and disappeared out of the kitchen, waving the hand holding the bars behind her.

It was all Jon could do not to burst out laughing at Tormund’s face. As it was, he limited it to a small chuckle, listening to Arya dragging her suitcase up the stairs, letting it bounce on every step.

“And that’s Arya.” Jon said after a moment.

“I like her.”

 

***

 

Robb arrived thirty minutes before dinner was ready. It wasn’t nearly as fancy as tomorrow’s would be, but it was a lot of food, and that was all they needed. Jon wouldn’t lie, he was a bit nervous for his family to get to know Tormund. He wasn't really their type – the Starks were businessmen, professors, lawyers, not bikers who worked at Starbucks. Jon had always been a bit of a black sheep for his relative lack of ambition, at least in their eyes.

Dinner started easily enough, but it didn't take long until his dad turned to them. "So, Tormund," He started out easy. "How did you get to know Jon?"

"I moved in next to him, what, a little more than a year ago now?”

"Yeah, but I've never really heard Jon talk about you before now."

Tormund shrugged. "We weren't really friends before, it only happened this fall.”

“Oh, alright.”

"So what do you do? Where do you work?" Catelyn asked.

_Here comes the other shoe,_ Jon thought, dreading it. "I actually work at Starbucks.” Tormund answered. "It's a job."

"Oh.” Jon caught her glance at Ned, but to his surprise his father was smiling, and didn't seem to be put off by it at all. “Any interesting hobbies?”

"He's actually in a bike gang." Jon interjected, saving Tormund from deciding whether or not to mention it.

"More like a club, really." Tormund corrected. "Perfectly legal."

"Wait, really?" Arya looked up suddenly from her food, eyes wide. "That's so cool! Newsflash, Jon's boyfriend is actually cool!"

"We're not–"

"He's not–"

They looked at each other and a moment of understanding passed between them, one Jon knew neither of them would mention later. They decided to laugh it off. "Glad you think so." Tormund said instead. "I enjoy it."

“That is actually pretty awesome.” Robb said, much more calmly. “How’d you get into that?”

The conversation flowed much more smoothly after that, and Jon relaxed, listening to Tormund tell his story. Part of him was proud, another part happy, glad that his family seemed to be seeing the parts of Tormund that made Jon like him, and not just what they expected to see.

He was caught afterwards to help clean up. When the plates were all in the dishwasher and the leftovers put away Jon finally left the kitchen, seeking out something better than dish duty. Sansa, Bran and Ned were lounging in the living room. Jon heard Arya laughing from the back room and followed it, listening to voices drifting down the hall.

"–semester. Any cool classes?"

"Yeah! I managed to slip fencing in there, _god bless_ my major. I'm super excited for that."

"That is awesome. Makes me jealous. My little community college would never have offered that."

Jon stopped just short of the door. Arya was lounging on a couch facing away from him, and he could hear Tormund somewhere across the room.

"No, instead you're just in a _bike club_. I'm jealous of _you_. I'd love to do that."

"You know what, I know someone who’ll let me borrow their two seater. If you ever visit Jon, drop by, maybe I'll take you for a little ride. Just don't tell your parents."

"Oh my god, really? No way!"

Strictly speaking, Jon probably shouldn't have approved of that, but he couldn't help but smile at Arya's enthusiasm, at how well they were getting along. He had been absolutely right about that. The thought of Arya hanging out with him and Tormund was somehow perfect, and he even considered hypothetically getting on a bike for half a second. He left them to it, retreating back to his room for a little solitude.

Forty five minutes later he heard quiet footsteps stop outside his door, open just a crack. Arya stuck her head in. "Hey, Jon?"

"Yeah?" Jon looked up at her and smiled.

"I like him. Keep him." She drew her head back and disappeared, steps fading down the hall as she headed to her room.

That was all the encouragement he needed, it turned out. He decided that she was right – he was going to go for it, all in, and fuck the consequences. He wasn't even worried or nervous anymore, just ready to make a move. Both of them were just waiting for a move, waiting for someone to finally verbalize what they both clearly felt. When Tormund came in a few minutes later he let all his feelings show, put all the fondness inside him into his expression. He'd only come to tell Jon that they were drinking downstairs and he'd been asked after, but it was the simple things.

Someone had turned down the lights and lit up the tree. Sansa was singing, but she stopped when Jon appeared to wave him over next to her. A drink was waiting for him and he slipped into the middle spot on the couch between Sansa and Tormund, remembering another night months ago, how nervous he'd been, how _stupid_ he'd been. There was nothing to be nervous about after all.

 

***

 

Ned and Robb were silly drunk when Jon and Tormund finally abandoned them to go to sleep, the only two left, laughing at everything. It was past midnight and Jon was nodding off in his seat. Tormund had poked him and whispered that they should go. Jon was more than happy to agree, and they only received a parting wave from Ned and Robb, caught up in all their own jokes.

By the time they were ready for bed and actually made it in it was one in the morning, but Jon was woken up by all the activity, and he wanted to bring something up. "I heard you talking to Arya earlier." Jon was sitting on top of the covers, changed, while Tormund was checking a couple things and shuffling his stuff around to keep it in some semblance of organization. "I'm glad you two get along."

Tormund chuckled. "Yeah, I like her a lot. She's got spirit. You were right about that." He finally finished and turned out the lights. "I like all of them, honestly. I was a little nervous at first, but they're starting to warm up to me, and I think – well, I hope I'm holding my own."

"You are. You seemed to have fun tonight, anyway."

"I did. This is a lot better than sitting alone at home." He paused. "Thanks again. for inviting me." His voice was soft and serious.

"Thanks for coming." Jon answered. He stopped for a moment, considering. Maybe it was also the alcohol, but he remembered his earlier promise to himself, and he spoke. "I'm gonna get sappy on you for a moment."

"Yeah, go ahead." Tormund said, clearly wanting to hear what he had to say, and Jon soldiered on.

"I'm really glad we've gotten to be friends." He said, his voice lingering before friends for just a moment too long. "I spent such a long time sitting on the other side of my fence hating the noise, never realizing I was missing out on something like this.”

"I'm glad we did too. Honestly, I always thought you were pretty cool. You just seemed to hate me, so that was that."

"I kind of did, back then. Not truly, but I certainly didn't like you. Ghost loving you should have been my first clue I was doing something wrong."

Tormund laughed. "He really did love me, right from the start. Maybe he knew something you didn't."

"Oh, I'm certain that's true at least. He's a pretty smart dog, even if he's a bit of an overenthusiastic handful at times." Jon looked up at the ceiling, choosing his next words carefully. "Honestly, I'm not sure how or when I stopped hating you. Sometime this summer, obviously, but I can't really pinpoint a moment. It just... happened."

"Aww, now you're getting really sappy." Tormund teased. "But no, I get it."

Jon was finally staring to drift off now, and he was getting less focused by the second. "We should probably sleep."

"Yes. We should. You can be sappy anytime you like, you know. Not just drunk at 1am."

"I know.” He got under the covers. “Goodnight, Tormund."

"Sleep well."

 

***

 

Christmas Eve was an entire day, really.

So yes, maybe Jon had woken up at 11. But it still felt wrong to wake up to the smell of something baking, something _salty_ – not a breakfast smell. He clung to the covers for a few more moments, knowing he was going to be roped into helping with preparations the moment he showed his face downstairs.

He was lucky. They let him have breakfast at least before Catelyn sent him to look through boxes for their nice tablecloths. _Really should have figured this out days ago,_ he thought.

He found the tablecloth they were looking for, dumped it on the kitchen table and disappeared before they could ask for anything else, desperate for the reprieve that would come soon, once things were a little more settled.

He passed Tormund carrying decorations into the kitchen and wheeled. “They got you too?” Jon followed him back in despite the risk. “Nope. You can make your family do your bidding all day all you want, but not the guest.”

“No, really, it’s fine–“ Tormund said, laughing, but Jon had already turned him around to lead him out of the room.

“You’re my excuse. _Go._ ” Jon whispered. He complied, making a show of being led out of the room and ushered to the back of the house. It was the middle of winter, the sunroom was probably the safest place. A little chill crept through the glass, but it was nothing they couldn't handle.

"I didn't even know you had this room." Tormund took a seat, clearly glad to be away from the commotion despite his protests.

"I suppose we never did give you a real tour." The view of the yard, the backdrop of the mountain sloping upward behind it was beautiful even in winter. Jon sat next to Tormund in one of the chairs, somewhere between porch chairs and lounge chairs, just the tiniest bit uncomfortable.

“That’s an incredible view.” Tormund commented, looking up. The snow had melted off the roof, letting them see all the way to the top of the mountain in the clear sky, normally hidden in clouds.

 

Edd 12:15 pm: How’s vacation going?

 

Jon 12:16 pm: It’s going great!

 

Jon’s conscience and stomach got the better of him eventually, and he agreed to help out after he finished lunch when he braved the kitchen to grab food for him and Tormund. He brought back two plates of leftovers.

“I’m going to head out and go shopping for them after this. Anything you want me to grab while I’m there?” Jon asked.

“Should we get some food for the cabin? We’ll be up there for at least a full day, yeah?”

“Sure, I’ll get that as well. Anything in particular?”

“Smore supplies?” Tormund suggested.

“Sounds great to me.”

 

***

 

Jon was hiding in the back room, sprawled across a sofa, food coma setting in already. Arya was across the room looking at her phone. Tormund had disappeared somewhere – Jon thought he’d said where, but he’d forgotten. A glass of wine sat abandoned on the table. Jon wasn’t sure who’s that was either.

Tormund returned with two more of Catelyn’s dinner rolls. “Wow, ok.” Jon said. “Don’t know how you can eat anything, honestly.”

“These are just too good to resist.” Tormund took a bite out of one of them and settled back.

“Can I grab some?” Arya asked. Tormund pulled off a piece and tossed it to her. “Thanks.”

“You too? I change my mind, introducing you guys was the worst mistake of my life.” He teased, and shielded his eyes. “Stop eating in front of me. It’s torture.”

A poke in his side made Jon look up. Tormund raised his eyebrows and stared straight at Jon, taking an exaggerated bite out of the roll, agonizingly slowly. He couldn’t make it through the bite without giggling. He scooted back and stretched out on the couch, feet digging into the side of Jon’s thigh. Distant laughter echoed from the living room, but Jon was happy to stay here for now and relax.

When he did make it into the living room, finally recovering, it was just as loud as he expected it to be, and he loved it. There was a fire burning in the fireplace. Jon sat on the floor by it, leaning against the side of one of the couches. Presents were starting to pile up under the Christmas tree and it reminded Jon that his were still in the car. He put off getting them until the conversation calmed, telling quiet stories and watching the fire. “I’ll be right back.” Jon said, and went out into the cold.

Pools of soft yellow light spilled from the house onto the snow covered driveway. Jon zipped up his jacket and walked out to the car. He pulled the duffel bag out of the trunk and stopped for a moment. The moment turned into long minutes. He stared up at the sky, perfectly clear, stars shining down between the mountains. Clouds of breath billowed out into the air, and he cleared the trunk of the car to sit and watch.

The door to the house opened. Jon heard the crunch of footsteps on the snow coming towards him and looked over his shoulder for a second to see Tormund. He stopped next to Jon, looking out into the valley. “We were wondering what was taking so long. Making sure you didn’t get lost.”

“Just taking a moment to enjoy the view.” Jon answered.

Tormund sat beside him, the car dipping under his weight. “More than a moment. You must be freezing by now.”

Jon shrugged. “Worth it for these stars.”

Tormund put an arm around Jon’s waist and pulled him into his side. Tiny lights sparkled around the valley in the distance, the nearest town shining bright past the eastern end. Jon sighed and relaxed. His legs were nearly freezing to the car, but he didn’t mind.

The perfect moment didn’t work as insulation, unfortunately, and eventually they did have to give up and go back inside. The duffel bag on Jon’s shoulder and the presents it held were a suitable distraction from any questions. He piled them up under the tree and returned to his spot by the fire to warm up. Tormund made them tea. By unspoken Christmas agreement almost everyone was in bed by midnight, the house dead quiet.

 

***

 

“Merry Christmas.”

Jon blinked and tried to focus. Tormund was sitting on the edge of his bed. The still dim light coming through the window told Jon it was far too early. “Mm.” He mumbled, and buried his face in the pillow.

“You know, I always knew you weren’t a morning person, but this is extreme. It’s _Christmas._ ”

Jon turned his head just enough so he could speak. “You don’t even celebrate Christmas.”

“Well, no, but I understand the feeling.” Someone ran down the stairs out in the hall – probably Arya. “Come on.”

Jon let out a long, exaggerated sigh, and propped himself up on one arm. “Fine.”

He wasn’t the last person downstairs, to his surprise. He poured a cup of coffee and settled down on one of the couches. Arya was already waiting impatiently by the tree. Tormund joined Jon on the edge of the room.

Arya and Rickon worked together to hand out gifts once everyone was there, and soon the room was filled with the sound of tearing paper. Arya came by and handed a present to Tormund.

“Not from me.” Jon said, surprised.

“It’s from Sansa.” Tormund replied, looking at the label.

Sansa shrugged. “I didn’t want you to get presents from just one person. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

“Well, thanks!”

Jon turned back to his own gifts as Tormund opened it. He had work to do, the boxes piling up. Finally he arrived at Tormund’s gift and paused, excited to see what it might hold. “Should I start guessing?” He joked, shaking the box lightly.

“Just open it.” Tormund said softly.

Jon pulled off the wrapping to reveal a box set of DVDs. He turned it over and read the title. _The Lord of the Rings._

“You mentioned you hadn’t seen that either. You should.”

“More movie nights, then?” Jon said. He examined the set more closely. “This must have been super expensive. Thanks.” He said, sincere.

“You’re welcome. The next one is mine too, by the way.”

Jon picked it up. _To Jon and Ghost,_ the label said. He opened it to find a fancy dog toy inside and laughed. “Hey, Ghost!” He called, and Ghost ran over. He pulled the tags off and handed Ghost the toy. It squeaked loudly and Ghost carried it away back to his spot.

Jon was exhausted by the time he was done with all the gifts. Tormund helped him carry them upstairs and he put them back in the duffel bag before collapsing on the bed. “I’m ready to take a nap.”

“I think Arya said something about a snowball fight. She roped Rickon into it too. You should join us.”

Jon glared at Tormund. “You two will be the death of me.” He said, but sat up anyway and followed him downstairs, bundling up, grumbling all the while. _Why am I doing this,_ he thought, but he knew the answer. As tired as he was, he still wanted to have fun with his brother and sister and Tormund. He wasn’t surprised to find Ned waiting in the yard as well, already making the beginnings of a fort. Jon took up residence behind a hedge, opting for the easy option over the work of building something, making a pile of snowballs.

Tormund ducked behind the hedge to hide from Rickon. “We’re allies, I’m assuming?” Jon asked.

“No way. Every man for himself.” Tormund answered, and shoved a handful of snow down the back of Jon’s shirt. Jon screamed and ran out from behind the hedge only to be pelted by snowballs from Arya.

“Got you!” She yelled, and Tormund joined her.

“What, so you’ll make an alliance with her but not me?” Jon yelled, laughing. He ducked behind a bush and tried to make a snowball of his own, but they were far more prepared. He had to surrender, laying on the snow and laughing, covering his face. “Mercy!”

“Get him!” Arya yelled.

“You’ve already gotten me enough!” Jon sat up and they all laughed with him. “I think I’m done. I’ll make you both hot chocolate if you lay off.”

“Deal.” Tormund threw his last snowball at Arya and ran away, disappearing around the corner of the house. She shouted and chased him. Jon stood and shook off the snow before following.

 

***

 

“It’ll be nice to have a few days alone.” Jon said, leaning against the wall with his legs stretched haphazardly over his bed. “I love my family, but god damn, they’re tiring. And you’re not helping.” He smirked at Tormund, who was nearly ready for bed, walking around the room shirtless to find the rest of his stuff.

Jon stared openly. He bit at just a sliver of his lower lip. Sharing the same room with Tormund for almost a week was starting to make Jon extremely frustrated, even a little impatient. He knew Tormund had seen the way Jon was looking at him, but Jon couldn’t bring himself to care.

“And in what way am I not helping?” Tormund asked, teasing.

_By looking like that when I can’t have you,_ Jon wanted to say. “You and Arya have decided to make my life miserable in every possible way, it seems.”

Tormund chuckled. “We’re only having fun.” He said, and turned the lights out.

“I know.” Jon said, and got under the covers.


	10. Chapter 10

 Jon lifted the cooler into the backseat of his car. “Is that it?” He asked.

“I think so.” Tormund answered. “Ready to go?”

They’d said their goodbyes, packed their stuff away. Ghost was staying behind – they didn’t want to have to worry about him while out skiing. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s go.”

They got in the car and started off west, up into the mountains. It wasn’t far to the cabin but the road was slow. They’d be on the road for forty five minutes, maybe an hour. Silence filled the car and Jon struggled not to panic.

He knew he was overthinking things, but he couldn’t stop turning it over in his head. The trip so far had been incredible. They had grown exponentially closer over the last few days, and Jon couldn’t help but think about what might happen now. They were going to be alone in a cabin for a full day, it was almost too perfect, and he’d already resolved to make a move sooner rather than later. Everything pointed to this being the right moment, and yet Jon worried that nothing would happen, and they’d be left in limbo, that maybe he’d misread the whole situation, that he would fuck up and lose the friendship.

“Excited?” Tormund asked.

_Terrified,_ Jon thought. And yet he calmed as soon as Tormund spoke, and he thought that maybe he did feel excitement. “Yeah.” _Everything will be ok,_ he thought, repeated, a mantra.

“I’m looking forward to seeing it. I love little cabins, I wish I had one.”

“It’s nice. And it’s not that little.” Jon loved the cabin. It only had one bedroom, but there was plenty of space in the living room for the whole family to pile in, with a pullout couch – one Jon hoped in the back of his mind that they wouldn’t need. They crawled over the icy roads, the snow glinting in spite of the overcast sky.

Half an hour later they pulled into the snow covered gravel driveway. Jon stopped the car and got out. “Let me go turn the power on first.” Jon said and disappeared into the cabin.

When he came back Tormund had already gotten all of the bags out of the car. Jon grabbed his bag and the cooler and set them just inside the door. Tormund followed with his bag and their ski stuff.

“Is that everything?” Tormund asked.

“I think so.”

“Good.” Tormund said, and pounced.

He held Jon’s head with both hands and leaned down to kiss him, leaving Jon reeling. He made a noise of surprise and then closed his eyes and melted into the kiss. Tormund backed him up against the wall. Jon clutched at the front of Tormund’s jacket with the hand trapped between them.

They broke apart for a moment, breathing hard. “Are we really doing this?” Jon asked, grinning.

“Yeah, we are.”

“Finally.” Jon said and pulled Tormund back down.

Tormund broke away after a moment and leaned down, putting his arms under his thighs. “Hold on.” Jon giggled as Tormund picked him up. He hung around his neck and tucked his face away in embarrassment. “Alright. Where’s the bedroom?”

“First door down the hall.” He kept laughing as Tormund carried him there, somehow turning the door handle while keeping a grip on Jon and dropping him on the bed. The laughter turned into a gasp as Tormund followed him, covering him.

Tormund paused, pulled away, a question in his eyes. He ghosted a hand over Jon’s crotch, tentative. “Don’t tease me.” Jon said, and threw his head back as Tormund grinned and took the invitation. He unbuttoned Jon’s pants with surprisingly deft fingers and pulled them off. He slowed then, letting his hands roam. Jon shivered as fingertips ran up the inside of his thighs. Tormund’s beard brushed ever so gently against his cock and Jon gasped. He reached down to run his fingers through Tormund’s hair, urging him along.

“Shit.” He whispered as Tormund gave an experimental lick. He whined and twisted his fingers in Tormund’s hair, suddenly overwhelmed. This was everything he’d wanted for weeks. It was hard to believe it was actually happening.

Suddenly it was extremely easy to believe it was happening as Tormund took Jon into his mouth. Jon groaned. He didn't last long – Tormund was _really_ good at this, it turned out. He said something unintelligible as he came, the words _Tormund_ and _God_ definitely in there somewhere. Tormund kept going as he calmed, chest heaving, until finally he pulled off and moved away. Jon raised his head to look at him for a moment and dropped it back down.

Tormund waited beside him, just staring quietly. Finally Jon turned over and kissed Tormund again, tasting himself on his lips. He slid a hand under the front of Tormund's shirt, feeling the hair on his chest like he'd imagined doing so many times.

Tormund sat up wordlessly to let Jon pull his shirt off. "You too." He said, smirking just a little. "Only fair."

"You say that as though I wasn't going to." Jon pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it to the side of the room. He turned his attention to Tormund's belt, unbuckling it and dropping it on the floor, followed by his pants and boxers. He took a moment to appreciate the fact that they were both naked, laying over Tormund to kiss him, falling completely flush against him. Tormund's breath hitched, barely perceptible, and Jon smiled against his mouth, please with himself. He moved slowly down Tormund's torso, kissing along the line of hair down his stomach. He was far less nervous than he had expected to be, reminding himself that he knew what he was doing, he’d done this before many times. Of course there was the uncertainty of being with a new person, but he trusted Tormund enough to be comfortable.

He kissed the inside of Tormund’s thigh, agonizingly close, teasing him even as he was desperate to touch, to taste. He finally turned his head to kiss at the base of Tormund's dick, moving up at the encouraging moan from Tormund. He took it into his mouth and paused – it had been a while. And then Tormund whined _please,_ breathless, and he focused only on that, on pleasing him.

He bucked as he came, bumping Jon upward, and he nearly laughed. He was just a bit rougher in his movements than most of the guys Jon had been with before, but it surprisingly wasn't unwelcome. He pulled away and watched, pleased with himself for being able to get that kind of reaction out of Tormund. He moved up the bed and laid next to Tormund, staring at the ceiling and waiting.

After a minute or so Tormund tucked his arms behind his head, breath slowing. He turned his head to look at Jon. "God damn," He said, an afterthought.

Jon laughed softly. "Yeah."

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"I've got some idea." Jon turned onto his side to look at Tormund, leaned over to kiss him gently. “I can’t believe how long I hated you.” He said, and buried his face in Tormund’s shoulder.

Tormund laughed and put one arm around Jon, playing his fingers gently over his back. "I'm starving." He said. "We should probably make dinner."

"That means I have to get up, though." Jon mumbled. He saw Tormund open his mouth to speak and silenced him with a kiss, propping himself up on one arm. Tormund turned to the side to make things easier and threw a leg over Jon, pulling him close.

"Jon, come on." He said when they broke apart. "Let's go make dinner in our underwear, ok? You can get food and stare at my ass, deal? I want to eat."

"Alright, fine." Jon rolled over and reached off the bed and threw Tormund's boxers back at him before pulling on his own.

They did exactly that. Jon thanked his past self for choosing to bring along leftovers, which meant they could just throw things in the microwave and be done with it. The smell of food made Jon realize how hungry he was as well, and he piled a plate full of food and went to sit in the living room to eat.

Tormund joined him a minute later, sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Their feet tangled together in the middle. Jon laughed to himself at that fact that he’d been worried about anything. The food was wonderful, the cabin was perfect, and Tormund was sitting in front of him mostly naked. “Guess we won’t need the pullout couch, then.” Jon said.

Tormund smiled. “Nope.”

Jon put down his now empty plate and crossed his arms, sitting back to watch Tormund. “What?” He asked as he finished his own food.

“Just enjoying the view.”

Tormund scoffed and gestured for Jon to come over to him. He complied, settling in to Tormund’s side and relaxing. “So, do you still want to go skiing tomorrow, or so you just want to stay here all day?”

“Are you kidding? Of course I still want to ski.” Tormund replied. “Why would I miss the chance to go skiing in the Rockies?”

“Fair enough. How does leaving at 10 sound? We can get back by 3.”

“It sounds wonderful.” Tormund whispered. He ran his fingers gently through Jon’s curls and kissed the top of his head. Jon turned to capture his lips, savoring the feel of Tormund’s beard against his face. Slowly the kiss turned more heated, and Jon moved to straddle Tormund. He rocked backward, and Tormund’s hand moved down Jon’s back and just under the waistband of the boxers. Jon stopped. “Do you want to…” Tormund asked, trailing off.

“Please.” Jon whispered, desperate. "Don't worry, I came prepared." He said, and got up to rummage through his bag, coming back with a package of lube and a condom. He tossed them at Tormund and disappeared into the bedroom, waiting.

Tormund followed a few seconds later. He raised his eyebrows at Jon and followed him onto the bed. "You really are desperate, aren't you." He teased.

"Hey, listen, an hour ago was the first time in like eight months. I think I'm allowed to be."

Tormund laughed and moved up the bed to kiss him, just a quick peck, before reaching between his legs. Jon gasped as he touched him and leaned down to suck gently at his neck. He took his time, playing with Jon until he was grasping at the blankets, nearly begging. Finally Tormund positioned himself and looked down at Jon. "Good?"

Jon nodded, his mouth hanging slack. He took in a shuddering breath, suddenly emotional. This wasn't just some hook up like he used to do, this wasn't just about having fun. This was nearly his first time with someone he truly cared about, removed from the fervor and suddenness of earlier. He grabbed at the back of Tormund's neck and brought his head down to kiss him as he slid into Jon, moaning into his mouth.

Tormund broke away and his breath hitched as he moved, slowly. "Jon." He whispered, dropping his head down. He picked up the pace and _whined_ , and Jon shut his eyes, letting the sensations wash over him.

He could tell Tormund was close, movements getting more frantic. He reached between them and moaned as he grasped himself, everything suddenly amplified, falling over the edge moments before Tormund. Jon kissed him as he came down, holding himself up on his elbows and pulling out before collapsing on the other side of the bed.

Jon stared into the middle distance and tried to collect his scattered thoughts, his limbs wobbly and weak. He looked over at Tormund to find him already staring back. “It has been a damn long time.” He said.

Tormund shook his head and rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You’d better clean up before we cuddle.”

“I’ll go shower for that.” He sat up. “I really need a shower anyway. You clean up the bed, though. I’ll get you a towel.”

“You’re going to make me do work?” Tormund said with mock outrage.

“You’re making me do it! It’s only fair.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and waited until he was ready to stand. He really did feel disgusting, and as much as he wanted nothing more than to stay, showering was a priority.

He felt the bed dip and Tormund hugged him from behind, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Fine. Go get that towel. Since I don’t know where anything is in here.” He pulled away and gave Jon a gentle shove. “That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.”

Jon returned ten minutes later from a quick shower and climbed back in bed, getting under the covers for the first time since getting there. "Hey." He said, and moved to rest his head on Tormund's chest. Tormund wrapped an arm around him and rested his hand on Jon's shoulder. They lay like that for a while. Jon was exhausted, and found himself nearly falling asleep, warm and comfortable.

"What time is it?" Tormund whispered, voice slow and sleepy.

Jon raised his head to look at the clock on the nightstand. He chuckled. "It's only 8:30."

"Do you want to do anything other than sit here?"

"No."

"Good." Tormund moved to hold the hand Jon was resting on his chest. He weaved his fingers in between Jon's.

Jon listened to the distant creaking of the cabin, the old furnace popping every once in a while, the wind blowing outside. He couldn't think of a better place to be. He was glad, honestly, that they had waited – and they'd had chances before. There were moments when Jon had let himself hope, somewhere in the back of his mind, before it had felt like inevitability instead of a question. When it finally had happened, it caught him completely off guard. In hindsight it made perfect sense. The chance to be alone had changed things. Here they could do what they wanted, be as loud as they wanted, walk around naked as much as they wanted, all things that were very nice to have during the first few days of a relationship. Jon laughed to himself at that, knowing he was building it up in his mind to be more than it was, that truly he just liked being able to see that. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?" Tormund asked, confused.

"For kissing me. For finally making a move. I don't know if I would have done if you hadn't, honestly."

"We'd have gotten there eventually, I'm sure of it." He laughed. "Besides, I'd been waiting long enough. You were driving me crazy."

Jon paused, realizing that Tormund had probably liked him a lot longer than he'd liked Tormund, from everything he'd been saying. Jon had only really realized he did fairly recently, with his attitude towards Tormund before then. "How long?" He asked, suddenly serious.

Tormund sighed. "Probably a year, honestly. I was never _truly_ jealous of Ygritte, but I definitely liked you while you were dating her. After I started to see more of you."

"Really?" Jon said, surprised.

"Yeah. I mean, it wasn't more than a passing thought until this summer. But it's been there for a while."

"Huh. I didn't expect that. I'm surprised you didn't hate me back, with how much I yelled at you."

Jon felt Tormund shrug. "You're cute."

"Is that it, then?" Jon looked up and feigned outrage. "That's the only reason you like me, huh?"

Tormund laughed and rolled his eyes. "You know it's not. So how about you? At what point did you stop hating me and start wanting to bang me?"

"Uh. You remember that day at the coffeeshop?"

"What day at the coffeeshop? There were a lot."

"When that random woman was flirting with me?"

"Oh my god. Really? No wonder you looked so shocked."

Jon turned away, blushing. He grinned. "Yep. That's kind of when it all came together for me."

"I thought it was way earlier, to be honest."

"Well, I was kind of oblivious."

"No kidding."

Tormund shifted. "I would say I should take a shower before sleeping too, but I'm drifting off already. I'm going to wait until the morning."

"Mm. Yeah, I'm falling asleep too. I shouldn't be this tired this early."

"Well, we've got a good reason." Tormund slipped out from under Jon's arm to lean over and turn the light off. The light coming in through the single window had dimmed long ago.

Jon turned on his side and smiled softly as Tormund slid in behind him, taking the hand that was slung over his chest. The warm breath on the back of his neck grounded him. He thought again that it was hard to believe this was actually happening, but this time it was softer, slow breathing and a crinkle around his eyes instead of a fast heartbeat. He’d missed falling asleep in someone’s arms.


	11. Chapter 11

It was noon when they finally got out the door.

They’d woken up at eight, but after Tormund’s shower was delayed by Jon’s enthusiasm, and breakfast was delayed by making out against the table, and packing was delayed by the laughter that slowed down breakfast, they’d only started putting on winter clothes at 11. Jon was honest with himself – the difficulty of zippers and clasps the clothes presented was the only reason he didn’t go at Tormund again.

Jon checked his pack once to make sure he had everything. It wasn’t big, but they were planning on stopping at a little shelter to eat lunch, so they’d be outside for a while. Nevermind that it was looking like lunch would be at 2. He opened the front door and was greeted by a blast of cold air. He shivered but pushed out into the cold, sitting on the front stoop to put on his skis. Tormund joined him a moment later. “Excited?” He asked.

“Cold.” Jon answered.

“Already? You’ve been out here for less than a minute.”

“I’ll warm up when we get moving.” Jon finished buckling on his skis and stood. “Everything fitting?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

They set off down into the small valley below the cabin. Jon relaxed into the rhythmic movement and the quiet swish of the skis. It had been a while since he’d really gotten outside, especially at home. The views were as breathtaking as the cold air, and he still knew these trails like the back of his hand. Tormund followed him, happy to enjoy the views in silence.

They reached a part of the trail through the woods that was wide enough to ski side by side and Tormund came up beside Jon. “You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you were outdoorsy, but I’m also not all that surprised.”

“I’m glad you are too.” Jon replied. “More opportunities to do stuff together, yeah? I’d like to go camping sometime.”

“For sure. We can take Ghost along too.”

Jon chuckled. “You’d both like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Your dog and I like each other, alright? It’s like you said, he’s sort of our dog now.”

“I like the sound of that.” Jon said tenderly, barely audible over the sound of the skis. “I like the sound of that a lot.”

“So do I.” Tormund said. He looked forward, but Jon could see him smile out of the corner of his eye.

They fell quiet after that, saving their breath on a tough section of the trail leading up to the shelter. They looped back up the other side of the valley, surrounded now by a dense forest of conifers blocking the view, forming an alley stretching out ahead of them. The shelter appeared at the top of the hill, nestled in between the trees and opening onto the trail. Jon glided up to the bench outside and took off his skis.

The shelter had three walls and a simple sloping roof, a fireplace and wood at the back. It wasn’t cold enough to warrant a fire for a short stop. The clear platform surface and shelter from the wind were enough to keep them warm. They sat side by side on the platform, leaning against the wall, and took out the food they’d brought along.

“So what do you think so far?” Jon asked.

“It’s beautiful. You’re lucky to have grown up in a place like this.”

“I’m well aware.” Jon passed Tormund the bag of beef jerky at his urging. “Where did you grow up?”

“Just a house in the suburbs. It was pretty standard. My parents changed their mind and moved back to Norway after we’d all grown up, but I’ve only visited.”

“And you stayed in the suburbs.”

“Different suburbs, but yes. It’s fine. I like where I live, and being in the free folk has given me plenty of friends. I do wish sometimes I’d done more than community college and that I didn’t work at Starbucks, but it’s not that big a deal.”

“I’m glad you chose to live there. Despite all appearances to the contrary.”

Tormund laughed. “How long was it after I moved in that you put up that fence? Two months?”

“One. As soon as I could, I think. After the first couple people in my yard at midnight.” Jon looked over at Tormund and grinned. “In my defense it was useful for Ghost too.”

“That dog’s amazing, but I don’t think he can jump six feet straight up. Four would have been fine.”

“Hush.” Jon hit Tormund lightly with his free hand, nothing behind it. Tormund caught the hand and looked over at Jon, raising his eyebrows and smiling. He leaned in to kiss Jon’s cheek and went back to eating.

Pretty soon they were done, and Jon slid to the edge of the platform to get up. Tormund put an arm around him from behind to stop him. Jon turned to look at him and leaned forward to kiss him slowly, lingering, no more than a press of lips.

They started on the second leg, longer but mostly downhill, around the top of the valley back down to the cabin. They took it quickly, eager to get back.

Jon sped up as he saw the cabin in the distance. He unbuckled his skis as fast as he could and pushed inside the door gratefully, shedding his coat and snow pants on his way to the kitchen. He’d already gotten the milk out of the fridge and a pan on the stove by the time Tormund got inside. “I’m assuming you want some?” He asked.

“What, cocoa? Of course.”

The house was warm and Tormund was warmer, wrapping his arms around Jon for a moment before leaving the room to put away their stuff and settling down on the couch. Jon followed with their cocoa and set both cups down on the coffee table. “How does a fire sound?”

“Later. After dinner, maybe?”

“Sure.” Jon sat on his end of the couch and picked up his cup, finally starting to warm up for real. He put his feet up on the table and sighed, closing his eyes and stretching his tired legs.

Dinner was a joint effort. Jon put together a salad and boiled some potatoes while Tormund made chicken, something he claimed was his own recipe. It turned out well enough. Jon didn’t care all that much about the food. He was looking forward to the evening, the food was just food, as hungry as he was. Two plates later they sat in the living room with a glass of wine each, a couple of logs burning in the fireplace.

“Okay. Peaches or nectarines?” Jon said. They’d been asking each other simple questions, enjoying the fire and learning the little things. “Nectarines for me.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yeah. Nectarines are the ones without hair.”

“Oh. Huh. Peaches, then. Favorite color?”

Jon chuckled. “Take a wild guess.”

“Black.” Tormund answered. “You’re right, I knew that. Favorite _hair_ color?”

Jon snorted and collapsed giggling, already a little tipsy. “What do you think?”

“So you do have a thing for redheads.”

“Duh. Ask me a real question.”

Tormund sighed. “Favorite… Ice Cream flavor.”

“That’s a tough one.” Jon stopped to think about it. “Mint.”

“Mint’s good.”

“My turn again.” Jon smiled as he thought of his question. “Who do you like more, me or Ghost?”

Tormund laughed and shoved Jon gently. “You know the answer to that.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

“You. Of course it’s you.” Tormund murmured. He put an arm around Jon’s shoulders. “My turn?”

Jon nodded, melting backwards into the couch and Tormund’s arm.

“Do you like Winterfell or your house better?”

“It used to be Winterfell.” He took a sip of wine, collecting his thoughts. “Now I’m not sure. Now I’m dating my neighbor, and I like him very much.”

“Who’s this? Should I be jealous?”

Jon rolled his eyes and leaned forward to fill their glasses again.

“I can’t believe you actually brought red wine.” Tormund commented, offhand.

“What can I say, I’m a romantic.”

“Clearly.” Tormund raised his arm and Jon settled in again. “In all seriousness, though. I’m glad this happened. I’m glad I’m here.”

“Are you happy you couldn’t afford that flight now?” Jon teased.

“I suppose so. You should come with me next year, though.”

“Get to see Norway and make the whole family jealous? Sounds great.” They fell quiet and listened to the fire. Jon wished fleetingly that they could just stay here. “Can you believe we’re going back tomorrow?”

“I wish we weren’t.”

“Better make the most of it then, huh?” Jon set his glass down and turned, pulling his knees up onto the couch. He pulled Tormund’s head down by the back of his neck and kissed him. The wind whistled through the chimney in the background, and Jon was content just to sit here for now, savoring the moment.


	12. Chapter 12

The bed was stripped, the covers in the wash. They sat together at the kitchen table eating cereal, most of their stuff already packed. Jon could feel the perfect atmosphere of the cabin fading with every item he packed away. When the bed was made and the bags in the car and the place spotless, it really settled in that this was it. Of course it wasn’t _it,_ but it wouldn’t be the same anywhere else. _And maybe that’s not a bad thing._ Jon thought as they got in the car, expected back by lunchtime. Tormund rested his hand behind Jon’s head as they drove.

“So when we get back,” Jon started. He’d been thinking about this for a while. “Let’s keep this a secret until I can find a good way to tell the family. I don’t think they’ll react badly or anything, it’s just… I don’t want to spring it on them, you know?”

“Yeah, alright.” Tormund replied after a beat. “It’s your family. Do whatever you’re ready for.”

“Thanks.” Jon glanced over to smile at him for a moment. He leaned back into Tormund’s hand and focused on the road.

They rolled into the driveway and stopped. Jon looked at the house, looked at Tormund. He was about to lean in to kiss him one last time when the front door flew open. Arya stood in the doorway, and Ghost came barreling down the drive. Jon opened his door and leaned down to greet him before he could reach them, just a little disappointed. They’d just have to wait until later.

Jon was still glad to spend time with his family though, as they ate lunch at the kitchen table with Bran and Sansa. He caught Sansa giving them a pointed look, and he smirked at her, nodding imperceptibly. She smirked back.

“You’re glowing.” She whispered to him when they were the only ones left in the kitchen. Jon only smiled.

The following days were an exercise in patience and frustration. Jon began to resent his self imposed little rule, but he kept it, unable to find the right moment. As well as Tormund had been getting along with the family so far, he wasn’t sure how they would react, even if they suspected.

This meant that all they had were little touches when no one else was around, glances across the dinner table, and the privacy of their room. Even then Jon’s childhood posters were a mood killer, and the bed was small and squeaky. Jon was sick of it.

It was Tormund who finally suggested they get out of the house. They snuck away for dinner the night before new years with just the bare minimum of permission, hoping nobody would miss them.

“Where are we off too?” Tormund asked, buckling his seatbelt as they reached the end of the driveway. “I hope it’s not an hour away.”

Jon shook his head. “There’s a couple places in the nearby town. What are you in the mood for?”

“Food,” Tormund answered. “Take me to whatever was your favorite place growing up.”

“That would be either Applebee’s or the diner with all the deer heads. Unless you mean high school, which would probably be the Italian place. Took my prom date there.”

“Oh, nice. Was it good?”

“I mean, she was sort of an asshole, but prom was fun.” Jon glanced over at Tormund and smirked. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds fine. I don’t care, as long as we’re out of the house.”

“Me too.”

The streets were nearly empty. Everyone else was at home enjoying time with family, Jon figured. There wasn’t anything fancy enough in town to justify going out at this time of year for most people. They turned a corner and stopped in front of what should have been the Italian place, but it was gone.

Tormund squinted out the window. “That doesn’t look like Italian.”

Jon laughed. “No, it definitely isn’t.”

Where the restaurant used to be was now what looked like an upscale strip club. Tormund giggled, and Jon rolled his eyes. “You took your prom date _here?_ ”

“No, you idiot.” Jon started the car. “Trophy diner then, yeah?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I rather like the look of this place.”

“Oh, _shut up.”_

Jon pulled out into the street. They drove a few blocks down to the diner, Tormund smirking all the way. A crisp smell somewhere between wood and cheap carpet greeted them as they walked in. They were seated in a booth, a bear snarling down at them – Jon wondered, idly, if it was going to start drooling into their food.

“So, which generic sandwich do you want?” Tormund asked.

“Yes, I get it. There’s not really fancy dinner options out here.” Jon gave the menu a cursory glance and set it down again; he already knew what he was going to order. "Still, the food's good enough. You won't be hungry later."

"Sure looks like it." Tormund looked up over the top of the menu. "You already know what you're getting?"

"The ribs – they're what I always used to get."

"Hm."

The waiter came over a minute or two later. Tormund ordered a steak, and Jon refrained from making a comment about chicken. He smiled when he felt a little kick under the table and set his foot down alongside Tormund's.

"So what happens when we get back?" Tormund asked, as though it was just something to be said.

Jon took in a sharp breath. He had didn't know how to respond to that. Of course he knew what he wanted to happen, but how to say that was an entirely different matter. "Well-" He started, and trailed off, smiling nervously.

Tormund looked away, just barely, sparing Jon the eye contact. "Point taken, I’ll be explicit. You want to keep doing stuff or not?"

Jon let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Tormund had a way with difficult things, where suddenly they felt natural and easy, and all Jon had to do was open his mouth and say yes.

"Great." Tormund nudged his foot with a sideways glance at the other diners. Jon chose to forget about where they were – it wasn't like they had a reputation in jeopardy here, he hadn't been back in long enough to recognize anyone – and he put his hand over Tormund's.

"Yeah."

He would admit that he was glad there weren't that many people, and everyone was over at the other side of the room. They made small talk and gossiped about their families. Tormund was in the middle of a story involving his aunt, an excited dog and a family dinner when their food came. He finished the story in between bites. Jon was content to eat and listen and laugh.

After, Tormund took his hand as they walked through the parking lot, and he sung along to a song stuck in his head from the diner. A light snow fell. Only one thing could make it more perfect.

Thinking the same thing, Tormund stopped Jon from walking around to the other side of the car and kissed him. It only lasted a moment before they broke away and got into the car, but Jon couldn't stop smiling.

 

***

 

“More champagne?” Jon asked. He held out the bottle to Tormund, who nodded and held up his glass. Jon poured. They clinked glasses and walked back out into the living room, taking up their seats on a corner of one of the couches.

There were still 30 minutes to go, but they’d even managed to lure Rickon out. He was sitting on the floor sipping a soda, listening quietly to the conversations around him. Arya was on the other end of Jon and Tormund’s couch, and Jon was happy just to eavesdrop on their conversation, taking in the moment. If he was sitting a little close to Tormund, nobody commented on it. Jon was pretty sure most of the family suspected what was going on anyway.

Midnight crept ever closer. Jon tucked his left foot under his other leg and stuck it just under the edge of Tormund’s thigh, less obvious but still there. The more Jon thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t want to give up his New Year’s kiss. So what if he’d be surprising the family. It didn’t matter. He wanted to celebrate, he wanted to mark the occasion. He made up his mind and whispered it to Tormund, so he wouldn’t be surprised. Tormund raised his glass and his eyebrows, and Jon raised his own glass, smiling, and took a drink.

He started bouncing his foot with five minutes to go. The closer he got, the more excited he got, and the minutes seemed to fly by.

“Ten!” A chorus of voices went up. “Nine!” Jon joined them.

“Eight! Seven!” He grinned and looked up and ever so slightly to the side, keeping Tormund where he could see him. “Five! Four!”

They made eye contact. Jon’s heart thudded in his chest. “Three! Two! One!”

He leaned forward. “Happy new year,” He whispered, and closed the gap between them. He smiled against Tormund’s lips, barely aware of the shouts around them. The first thing he saw when they broke apart was Arya grinning at them as though vindicated. He looked at her and shrugged, settling back in his seat, leaning into Tormund for real this time.

Even Catelyn had a smile for them, Jon saw as he looked around the room, trying to hide his embarrassment. Only Ned looked surprised. “Yes, you were really that obvious,” Sansa offered without prompting.

Tormund laughed, Jon looked away, smiling despite himself. He stood. “Anybody want something from the kitchen?”

“If–“ Tormund started.

“Yes, I will get you some of those dinner rolls.”

Tormund nodded and sipped his champagne calmly despite everyone laughing at him. Jon shook his head and left, still wondering how Tormund did that, how he had such an easy confidence. Jon was a blushing schoolgirl in comparison. He returned from the kitchen with a piece of pie for himself and a few rolls for Tormund, one of which was stolen by Arya, half for her and half for Rickon.

The last embers of the fire were flickering out when they finally retreated upstairs, squeezing onto Jon’s bed again, fingers tangling in curls as they kissed gently. Jon smoothed his thumb over Tormund’s beard. They stared in the darkness, every light in the house off, curtains drawn, just the tiniest sliver of moonlight falling onto the floor.

“Hey, Jon?” Tormund asked.

“Yeah?”

Tormund paused and took a deep breath. “I love your mom’s dinner rolls.”

Jon giggled, reaching out in the darkness to shove Tormund’s shoulder. Tormund started to giggle as well. Jon felt his stomach twist and they both fell silent, serious. The moment dragged on for far longer than it should have, as Jon gathered the courage to speak. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Tormund said back, just above a whisper.

 

***

 

Tormund and Jon's family parted warmly, Ned inviting him back anytime. Jon smiled from where he stood holding the last of the bags to go in the car. Dim early morning light filtered through the clouds as Tormund took their travel mugs and turned to follow Jon.

The smell of coffee filled the car. They had a long day of driving ahead, deciding to go straight home this time instead of staying over at a hotel. It meant they would get back late, but the hotel wasn’t worth the trouble. The drive passed quietly for the most part, the radio on just low enough to hear each other. They drove through a McDonalds for lunch, and Jon giggled as Tormund fed him french fries, unable to resist a little nibble at his finger. He was sure an hour later that Tormund was never going to let him forget it.

Jon pulled into his driveway, falling snow dancing in the headlights. Tormund was asleep in the seat beside him. He stopped to stare for just a moment before shaking him gently awake. “We’re here.”

Tormund blinked awake. Neither of them moved.

“Want help carrying your stuff in?” Jon asked. He was tired and wanted nothing more than to dump his own bags on the floor and collapse into bed. He offered anyway.

“No, I’ll be fine,” Tormund replied, and Jon breathed a sigh of relief. He turned to get out of the car but Tormund stopped him. “Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked.

Jon smiled. “Of course. Want to get started on our next marathon?”

“You mean the DVD’s I got you for Christmas?”

“Yeah. Lord of the Rings. I’m still skeptical, but if I get bored I can always just pay attention to you instead.” Jon laughed.

Tormund grinned. “Alright. Your place or mine?”

“Why don’t you come over here for once? I’ll make dinner.” Jon got out of the car and went around to the trunk, Tormund following. He pulled his bags out and set them down on the driveway.

“Dinner and a movie sounds perfect.”

They paused, Tormund leaning on his suitcase, backpack on. Jon felt like he should say something more profound, but only one thing came to mind. “See you tomorrow, then.”

Tormund smiled and leaned down to kiss Jon goodnight. It lingered for a moment, soft. Jon pulled away as Ghost bumped up against his legs, begging to be let into the house.

“Tomorrow,” Tormund said, and turned to go home.

Jon watched him walk away. He turned to wave at his door and then disappeared inside. Jon waved back, his hand lingering in the air as he watched the snowflakes fall quietly under the streetlight. He sighed and looked down at Ghost, who was sitting expectantly, and turned to walk up his own driveway. It was good to be home.


End file.
